


I Will Help You Learn How to Fly

by EtchedGhost



Category: South Park
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Children through to Adult, Coming of Age, Domestic Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses, Guardian - Freeform, Guardian Angel, M/M, Macabre, Mentor/Protégé, Mysterious Figure - Freeform, Poverty, Superheroes, The slowest of slow burners, There will be Abuse (all types), There will be swearing, There will be violence, alter ego, domestic abuse, i will protect you, there will be blood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtchedGhost/pseuds/EtchedGhost
Summary: "I'm tired guys, think I'm gonna go to bed."A gunshot later, and he awakens in his bed, Kenny once again, and no closer to any goddamn answers. It was like fate was rubbing it in his face. He would never know who or what he was. Why he came back, why no one ever remembered.But he isn't alone this time. There is someone there that he has met before.A person from when he was young, who had always been watching over him. The stranger that had called himself Guardian Angel the first time Kenny had met him.The person who inspired the 'Guardian Angel' tales Kenny told to his sister at night before bed.The name he had accidentally adopted when defending his sister under disguise of Mysterion.The true Guardian Angel who appears once more, and tells him something:"Mysterion will not be enough."
Relationships: Guardian Angel/?, Kenny McCormick/Craig Tucker
Comments: 32
Kudos: 32





	1. I Know You Feel Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it wasn’t enough. After all, no one knew who Batman was, he kept that secret to himself. But, everyone knew who Ironman was.
> 
> ...he was getting mixed messages. Maybe he just needed to decide if he was a Marvel superhero or a DC one?

* * *

##  **  
  
CHAPTER ONE**

##  **I Know You Feel Alone**

* * *

_  
Chapter One Song: Keeno - Oracle  
Chapter One 'Craig can't sleep' song: Daft Punk - Nightvision_ ****

**Kenny (Age 9) Craig (Age 10)  
**

* * *

His eyes opened. It’s early. If he had to guess, around 5am, as it’s still dark outside. It has to be morning though, otherwise he wouldn’t even be awake. He never wakes up until whatever sick process of speed growth occurs is completed. 

It's raining outside. Even if he couldn't hear it pelting on the windows, he could feel the cold, wet feeling in his room. The walls were slightly damp, and there was one corner that dripped. He'd tried to leave something there to catch the water, but it always filled up too fast, so he left it, and put up with the smell of damp, threadbare carpet. 

It's cold as well. He can feel the draught through his cracked window. The piece of tape he'd stuck over the crack was currently fluttering wildly in the harsh funnels of air that seeped through the open space, still hanging on by the stubborn stickiness of its other side. He listened to the light sound of it flapping against the window in a jarring non-pattern.  
Kenny turned, sighing in his bed, the sound muffled, indicating that he's wearing his parka. It was the guaranteed sign that he'd been revived. That he'd died yesterday. He took a moment to hazily gather his thoughts, awareness of how he died seeping into his mind. And he lifted up a hand to feel his temple.   
  
Nothing but smooth, clean skin greeted him. No hole, no blood, no...matter. it was always a point of morbid fascination. No matter what happened, how he died, he'd come back with no marks, no physical scars. Even if he'd scraped his knee before dying, the next day, he would wake up, and the scab would be gone.   
  
It was fascinating, but also creepy. He was always undamaged. He'd lost teeth, broken bones, and he got to keep them for a while. Until he died. And then they disappeared, and he was like new. He supposed he should be thankful that whatever weird Cthulhu curse this was, it at least brought him back at the right age.   
  
He had the worst superhero powers.   
  
_'I can't die! Except I can...and I don't come back until the next morning. So, if I die trying to rescue people from a fire, well...maybe the fire will be really nice and wait until I'm back the next day.'  
  
_ He would have scoffed at the thought, except, he couldn't even muster that much energy. He felt really down. Usually, death was death. He'd come to terms with it. But yesterday...yesterday had been confusing, physically painful, frustrating...and a little bit heartbreaking.   
  
  
He hated this curse.   
  
  
He turned back once again, curling in on himself to recapture heat lost through his movements. And he stops. Freezes. And he realises that he’s not alone in this room. And for a moment, he is tensed as he tried to figure out where they are. Had they been here this whole time and he hadn't noticed until now? Carefully, he scans the room, until he identifies the person.  
  
There’s a figure standing there, leaning against his broken closet door, as if waiting for him to wake up. A tall figure in all black, hood up, long scarf, jacket, fingerless gloves.   
  
  
And Kenny pushed the blankets away, almost leaping off the bed, moving towards the figure.  
  
Before throwing himself into the figure’s arms in a hug.  
  
It was uncharacteristic behaviour to anyone who might have been watching, and to anyone else, bar maybe Karen, he wouldn’t ever do this, couldn’t even fathom the idea of it.  
  


“It’s been a while...Guardian Angel.”  
  


“Kenny.”  
  


The voice was deep, but filled with a warmth. Almost as if he’d been...missed. And that tone was a salve for his disappointment and unease from yesterday.

  
Guardian Angel knew everything. He knew that Kenny died, and came back. He **remembered.** And that was worth everything in Kenny's eyes. **Everything**. He didn’t need to be strong and cheerful in front of him. He was allowed to be what he was in reality. A small, scared kid that didn't know what was going on, what he could do about it, and how he could get through it in the meantime.  
And in a life where he felt like he was drowning sometimes, it was a lifeline.  
  
And as arms tightened around him to hold him close, Kenny felt something he’d not felt since the last time he saw Guardian Angel.  
  
He felt safe, and that everything was going to be okay. Because Guardian Angel didn’t protect him from death, that would be pointless. He protected him from the effects of death, from his own mind, from life, and the things that couldn’t be erased or made whole and perfect simply by waking up the next day.  
  


* * *

"If I could sleep right now, I would be soooo happy."  
  
His ceiling was a great listener. Not so great on the responding. It was perfect. And he might've appreciated the joy that came with not having to converse with anyone pointlessly.   
  
Were he not so very annoyed right now.  
  
Once again, the culprit had returned. The sadistic culprit that caused this issue he had. The culprit he called ‘not being able to sleep’.  
  
His issue was a simple one; that he had been lying here all night, and hadn’t been able to sleep. Not at all. The solution? Apparently there wasn't one.   
  
It shouldn’t be that difficult, it was something humans did pretty naturally. But alas, he lay here, staring at his ceiling, occasionally conversing with it. Sometimes he switched it up. Sometimes he lamented to the wall, or out the window, but at this moment, it was his dumb ceiling.  
  
His phone currently played a quiet rain soundtrack, which based on the pattering sound on his window, now seemed to be a pointless addition. And he’d already cycled through music, piano, white noise. Stripe had abandoned him at around 4am, and had fallen asleep, leaving Craig envious.  
  
He’d gotten up around 1am and tried warm milk (even though he hated warm milk). Afterwards, he’d tried counting sheep. He'd tried to get up and mess around on his phone around 2:20.   
  
Unfortunately, he had been too tired to focus on anything, but upon returning to his bed, found that he still couldn’t sleep. Fanfuckingtastic.  
  
Reaching over, he flinch-glared against the brightness of his screen as it lit up in response to his actions. 5:08am. Flicking the rain sound off on his phone, he rubbed at his eyes with one hand.  
  
And cursed as he accidentally dropped his phone onto his face.  
  
“..fuck..” He grumbled quietly as he moved from rubbing his eyes to his forehead. And it hadn't even had the decency to knock him out.  
  
Why the hell was he even awake right now? What were people supposed to even do when they were too tired to do anything, but couldn't sleep? How was that even remotely useful?  
  
Why was he awake right now?  
  
A snippet of conversation with his friends from earlier prickled to the forefront of his mind. He'd eventually   
  
  
_"Tweek, do you ever like, sleep? You drink so much coffee."  
  
"Agh! Y-yeah, I usually get about 4 hours on a good night."  
  
"That's a good night?"_  
  
 _"Yeah. Why?"_  
  
 _"Dude, I usually sleep through my alarm. I get like..9 or 10 hours easily."_  
  
 _"Whoah! Hgh! R-really man? How do you do it?"_  
  
 _"It's normal. Right guys?"_  
  
 _"Well, I'm more like 8 hours, but yeah."_  
  
 _"Yeah, see?"_  
  
 _"W-what about you Craig?"_  
  
 _“Yeah. I guess sometimes."  
  
"Sometimes?"  
  
"Yeah. Sometimes it's like that. But sometimes, people just...can’t sleep."  
_ _  
__“What do you mean?”  
_ _  
__“I mean that some nights, I-people...can’t sleep.”  
_ _  
__“...You have insomnia?”  
_ _  
__“I think insomnia lasts more than a few days now and then.”  
_ _  
__“Hey! I got it! Maybe when you’re awake, it means you’re in someone else’s dream_ ?”  
  
 _"..What?"  
  
"Don't look at me like that, I'm serious!"_  
  
 _“Where did you hear that?”  
_ _  
__“Ah that’s just a myth!”  
_  
 _“ARGH!!, B-but..W-what if you die in someone’s else’s dream? Does that mean that you die in real life. OH GOD SO MUCH PRESSURE!”  
  
"That's not gonna happen Tweek. Clyde is just being dumb."_ _  
__  
__“It’s not dumb! It’s true!”  
_ _  
__  
_And Craig frowned at the memory. Well, that explained it. Dr.Donovan the sleep expert _must_ be correct. Idiot.   
  
Of course, the irony was that now he'd thought about it, the memory was keeping him awake.   
  
His friend could be so stupid sometimes. And apparently his stupidity gave his brain ideas that kept him awake. And even if it was _somehow_ true, who the hell was even dreaming about him to start with? Who would wanna? He wasn't exactly a 'fascinating' guy.   
  
Well, he hoped he was beating them up in the dream in revenge for robbing him of sleep.  
  
“No one is allowed to dream about me. It’s forbidden. Stop fucking doing it, whoever you are.” He groused to his ceiling, ignoring the fact that he was humouring this stupid theory of Clyde's, even though he knew it was ridiculous. He'd sunk to a new low. Lack of sleep was making him crazy. _  
_  
And, with that revelation, and whilst still looking pissed off at imaginary people who dreamed of him, he turned in his bed, pulling his hat down over his eyes, and tried to ignore the awake world in favour of trying to fall to sleep. He'd take an hour at this stage of the bargaining process.  
  
And he waited.  
  
And waited a little more.  
  
He counted the seconds as he waited.   
  
And he clenched his eyes shut until the inky blackness behind his eyelids grew even darker, but still, he couldn’t fall asleep. And he hated it. He hated turning up to school after a night of not sleeping.  
  
Because it was really obvious he hadn’t slept. Usually, his apathy and deadpan was a solid placement. But when he was tired, he let things slip that he wouldn't usually. Plus he always looked like crap. And looking like crap was noticeable, made him stand out, made people ask what was wrong, when he just wanted to meld into the background and be left alone.   
  
He frowned as he let go of his hat, letting it sit over his eyes. The last time he'd been like this had been..about a month ago. And that had been reasonable. He'd sat up the whole night, his brain asking himself 'what the fuck happened today'. He could get on board with the reasoning behind that at least. What was it about tonight in particular that made it different? What had happened yesterday that made this a thing?  
  
He supposed that something pretty big had happened. But it wasn't like he'd been involved in it whatsoever. Weird shit **always** happened in South Park, he was almost used to it by now. Having an ancient, supposed to be fictional Old One turn up and fly around destroying things was no less random than giant guinea pigs tearing the place apart.   
  
And yet, despite all the weirdness that did occur, it was actually those two events that had kept him awake...huh.  
  
There must be a common factor between them. Maybe giant guinea pigs and Cthulhu were in cahoots? Maybe giant guinea pigs were ALSO old ones.   
  
  
Maybe he was going crazy because he hadn't slept and was coming up with hare brained theories.   
  
  
More habitually than anything, he held a middle finger up to the ceiling. Maybe he wanted to blame god, or whatever sleep gods had neglected him tonight.  
  
  
  
Someone deserved this middle finger.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Kenny was early for school. Really early. Ridiculously early.  
  
Pulling his hood tighter to keep the cold out, he stood at the usual place where he waited for the bus for a moment, only now debating what exactly he wanted to do. The bus that wouldn’t be there for a couple of hours. And there was no point walking either. The school wouldn’t be open yet.  
  
Why was he even out here? Why? What had made him decide after Guardian Angel had left that the best option would be for him to get up, get dressed and walk to the _bus stop_ ?  
  
He was half tempted to turn back round, questioning his temporary madness at coming out here at stupid o clock. It wasn’t like he could even go and sit somewhere and wait.  
  
But his mind was so awake. He had so much that he’d been told, so much to still think about. Cthulhu, the cult, the City of R'lyeh. He'd talked about it with Guardian Angel, shared his thoughts, his musings. Guardian Angel didn't tend to offer much in the way of deep conversation, but he was there, and able to help Kenny untangle things, even if just a little.  
  
R'lyeh. He just _knew_ he’d been there before. Before he and his friends had ended up there, he'd been there. He felt it, he just didn’t know how, or why. He didn't remember ever visiting an undead city before. He hadn't known any of this. The whole cult thing with his parents, how exactly they'd gotten him cursed before he was even born, how it even really _worked._ He didn’t know anything really apart from what he already knew before Cthulhu had arrived on the scene.  
  
He died. And he came back. And no one remembered apart from him. And Guardian Angel.   
  
  
That was all there was to it. And yeah, it sucked. Majorly. But, he'd tried to make the best of it. He'd gotten very good at knowing what could and couldn't kill you, and maybe it wasn't the best skill for a 9 year old, but he wasn't half bad with a gun. After he'd accidentally shot himself a few times of course. And he was great at climbing buildings now, and all it had cost him was a few slips and falls and a life here or there. He'd realised that he could try a lot of things, that he didn't really have to be scared about dying. And once he'd started to put together what he was good at. Well, that was how Mysterion was born.   
  
  
_“Mysterion won’t be enough.”  
_ _  
_Kenny kicked at the stray pieces of slushy melted snow that lay on the ground. He'd tried dammit. He didn't know what else he could do. _  
__  
_Guardian Angel had been a comfort when he had appeared. A figure of protection, of _remembering,_ of being there for him when he was at his lowest. He wasn’t always there, it was rare to even see him. But it was always at his worst moments. The timing was always uncanny. Just when things were about to go their very worst, or the world had turned itself upside down, that’s when Guardian Angel would appear. Like after Cthulhu had appeared recently. It made sense that he had shown up.   
  
Guardian Angel was the hero South Park didn’t even know they had. Or Kenny told himself that at least. It seemed selfish to imagine that Guardian Angel was there for him. No, Guardian Angel was busy protecting, he was sure of it. Kenny was Guardian Angel’s passing kindness, and Kenny wouldn’t demand more from him. He was strong after all, he could handle all this. The madness of this town, his own curse, everything. He’d been handling it, and that wouldn’t change. Plus, he...looked up to Guardian Angel, and he had been one of the inspirations to become Mysterion. And if the costume was a little bit inspired by Guardian Angel...  
  
  
  
However, this morning had been, well, a surprise to say the least. Kenny didn’t know what to do with the small snippet of information he’d been given. He was used to the way Guardian Angel gave information. Little snippets, always things he needed to figure out.  
  
This time, he had been told that Mysterion wasn’t enough. And okay, maybe deep down, he knew that. He was only nine after all. There were still limitations on what he could do. till, hearing the words had hurt. Was it that his persona wasn't enough, or was it...him that wasn't enough?  
  
He’d wanted to ask more, get clarification on why. Why it mattered, why he needed to be enough, what he was doing wrong exactly. But Guardian Angel, per his usual style, had left, leaving Kenny only with the image of his back, his jacket etched with an angel, with silver lines. Always the last thing Kenny had ever seen of him before he left. Until the next time. Whenever that would be. Until then, he had to figure out why Mysterion wasn't enough. Why he himself wasn’t enough.  
  
None of it made sense, and it felt like he hadn't been given all the information.   
  
He sighed, his breath misting. It could be an hour, it could be a year. And the idea of it being that long without an answer made his stomach clench. He was tired of not getting answers for anything, he wanted to know this at least.  
  
Plus, he needed Mysterion. He needed anonymity sometimes. And Mysterion gave him some element of that, to an extent. Sure, his friends knew, but that was okay, they were his friends.  
  
Maybe Guardian Angel was right. Maybe it wasn’t enough. After all, no one knew who Batman was, he kept that secret to himself.  
  
  
But, everyone knew who Ironman was.  
  
  
...he was getting mixed messages. Maybe he just needed to decide if he was a Marvel superhero or a DC one?  
  
  
 _“Kenny. Mysterion won’t be enough.”  
_ _  
__  
_The voice hadn’t been harsh. And Kenny had felt like there was more to be said, had they not been interrupted.  
  
But Karen had knocked on his door, cold and wanting company. And when he’d turned around to check before letting his sister in, Guardian Angel was gone.   
  
Eventually, Karen had fallen asleep in his bed, but he'd found himself dressing for school.  
  
Which left him standing here, in the cold, far too early in the morning, waiting for a bus that wouldn’t arrive for hours. He was fully intending to find somewhere else to go.  
  
And then he saw someone he hadn’t expected to at this time of morning.  
  
Blue chullo hat, slouching whilst walking, looking utterly unlike himself in his look of tired misery. Craig Tucker hadn’t noticed him yet, too busy focusing on attempting to melt the floor with his eyes apparently.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
Craig hated everything at the moment. After the most valiant of attempts, he’d given up on sleep and had decided that Tweek’s coffee shop opened pretty early. He’d go and grab something there and sit for a while, glaring at the table. His parents would probably be annoyed he’d left so early without letting them know, but that was only a problem if he actually cared. He did not.  
  
And he was so tired, he was considering skipping his classes. It wasn’t like he’d actually be able to focus, and he didn’t like to waste his time. Unfortunately, considering was probably as far as it would go. He would be a truant student, and one nowhere near old enough to get away with it without being asked why he wasn't in school. There was nowhere he could go to really hide, especially during the last stretch of winter into spring, when it was still cold enough that being outside for six hours wasn't really an option. He _could_ sneak home after his family had left for the day, but he didn't want to spend the day in the same room he'd spent the entire night trying to sleep in. Most of the locations around the town either required money, or for someone to not recognise him. And it was a small town, so everyone knew him. He would 100% get busted by someone.   
  
Today was shaping up to be pretty shitty on the whole.   
  
  
“Heeey Tucker.”  
  
He immediately recognised the person, by tone if not voice. He didn't want to acknowledge the person, but ignoring them wouldn't work.   
  
Craig glanced up. Things just got a whole lot shittier.

Kenny McCormick. Their resident poor kid slash pervert slash general weirdo. One of the four people that he truly disliked in this town.

In fact, Kenny won first place for being the one most disliked by Craig. And it wasn’t because he was the most annoying, or the most condescending, or the most preachy, or the most vindictive, or even the most passive. Kenny was none of those.   
  
No, the reason he disliked Kenny the most was a simple, but damning one. It was because Kenny was the type of person that he expected to honestly _know better_. The type of person he wouldn’t ever imagine choosing Stan, Cartman and Kyle as his friends. The one that constantly _let_ himself be ridiculed by Cartman for being poor, the one that _let_ his friends dare him to do the craziest shit that could get him killed, all in the name of a few dollars.   
The one they'd tried to replace when he'd gone away for a while, like it was nothing.   
  
Wasn’t it demeaning to see how his ‘friends’ treated him?  
  
  
In Craig's eyes, Kenny was the worst of the four, because he was the best of the four, and _chose_ to hang with those that took advantage of that. And it wasn't as if other people disliked Kenny. He was, like a lot of their class, reasonably liked by most people. Clyde and Token both liked him, Jimmy and Tweek too. The girls liked him well enough (which in his opinion, was an achievement in itself.) Craig could say with a decent amount of certainty that Kenny was inoffensive enough to at least not be majorly disliked. It wouldn't be that difficult for Kenny to find better friends. But Kenny stuck with his 'friends', in the little gang that had become rivals with his own friend group.   
  
And Craig honestly preferred to dislike people for being despicable people, rather than being half decent people who made stupid choices. And Kenny went against the preference in his head, which pissed him off. Which caused him to try and 'recategorise Kenny', in his head, and give up when he realised that there was no neat little box to put him in when it came to his thoughts about him.   
  
  
Which pissed him off even more.   
  
Kenny knew Craig didn't like him, and yet he still came over. It went against everything logical. If people know you don't like them, they tend to stay away, right?  
  
And yet here he was, approaching him, with hopeful looking eyes. Craig hated that expression.  
  
“Fuck off McCormick.”  
  
And instead of doing as requested, Kenny offered a lazy smile. Craig couldn’t see it, as his mouth was hidden by his parka, but his eyes crinkled ever so slightly.  
  
  
“C’mon Tucker, don’t be like that, I was just saying hi. No harm in that.”  
  
“It always starts with hi, and ends up with me losing my birthday money.”  
  
Oh, and now Kenny had the **audacity** to roll his eyes. Craig tried to use this as momentum to place Kenny once and for all in the _'I hate this'_ box in his mind. But it was never right. Kenny didn't fit in there either. So he sat outside his mind boxes, pissing him off instead.   
  
“We didn’t know all that was going to happen. And we said we were sorry. And we got you your money back dude.”  
  
They had. It hadn’t meant much, hadn’t changed anything. Craig chose not to reply, because maybe if he stopped talking, Kenny would get bored and go away.  
  
“Sooo, why are you out here so early?”  
  
So much for that plan. Maybe he could walk faster?  
  
“Clearly I’m walking.”  
  
“Well yeah, but why so early?” And Kenny leaned in to peer at him, making him take a step backwards at the sudden scrutiny.   
  
Another thing he hated. Kenny had NO concept of respecting personal space. With anyone. Including him. Most people (outside of his closer friends) gave him a respectable level of proximity distance.  
  
Kenny did not.   
  
“What the hell are you doing Mccormick?” Why did he have to talk Kenny through social etiquette? Why was he of people now thinking about something as stupid as etiquette?  
  
This was absolutely Kenny's fault. Kenny needed to go away.   
  
Instead of vocalising this, he watched as Kenny rocked back onto his heels.  
  
“You look tired Tucker. Real tired. Didn’t sleep?”  
  
“None of your business.” Craig replied shortly.   
  
“I didn’t sleep well either.” Kenny offered.  
  
“...That explains why you’re out here bothering me.” Craig grumbled.  
  
“Yeah. ‘Cept I forgot the bus doesn’t turn up for ages.”  
  
Craig had nothing to add to that comment. He didn’t like pointless small talk, and he hadn’t quite decided if this was that or not. Did it count as small talk if he didn't want the talk to begin with?  
  
“Sooo...are you out here because you didn’t sleep last night as well?”  
  
“McCormick, seriously...”  
  
“McCormick, seriously.” Kenny threw back at him, in a high pitched mockery of his voice. Craig flipped him off. Kenny laughed.  
  
"Geez, you're always so...Craig about things. I'm just...playing around with you. You look like you could use some cheering up."  
  
  
Who asked him to be nice? Who asked him to be considerate? Not him. God he hated this guy so much. Except Kenny wouldn't get in the damn 'hate' box category, which was so confusing. Things were simple there usually: 'hated' ‘meh’, ‘less meh’, or they made him ‘soooo happy’. It was a great system. Except there was a stupid orange parka wearing person wandering amok, not getting into the damn box he'd assigned him to. And even when he did manage to put him in there, he'd just hop right on out. He didn’t like Kenny sitting in between boxes like this. And the truly maddening part was that this was all in Craig's own mind, a place he should have control over, where he should get the final say on what he thought of people.   
  
"I don't need cheering up. And if I did, I wouldn't need _you_ of all people to do it."  
  
It was almost maddening how difficult it was to read Kenny's reaction when his hood was up. Especially when he continued to speak in a light hearted tone as if he hadn't said anything untoward.   
  
“C'mon Tucker, surely it’s not THAT bad being near me. I mean...you didn’t seem to mind when our groups used to originally hang out.”  
  
“Yup. When we were playing _games._ ”  
  
“Isn’t life a game in general? Full of game overs and restarts...” Kenny commented quietly.  
 _  
  
What? What the hell was that out of nowhere?_ _  
__  
_“What?”  
  
Kenny's eyes looked...startled.  
  
“Ah, it’s nothing, ignore me!”  
  
“I’m trying, trust me.” Craig muttered. This only seemed to encourage Kenny to once again, lean in towards him. He took a step back, which was...difficult when walking forwards.   
  
“...You have two different eye colours.” Kenny mused. Craig shrugged, averting his gaze.   
  
“No shit Sherlock. You only just noticed?”  
  
  
“No...Guess I’ve never really thought about it before. Looks kinda cool. Wish I had different eye colours. Eyes are kinda boring when you have two of the same.”  
  
  
Why were they still talking? Where was this conversation even going? Craig was pretty sure that he wasn’t in any way curious enough to continue it. So with that decided, he continued walking along the path to Tweek’s coffee shop quickly, hoping that the increase in speed would shake this annoying person.  
  
“Hey, where you going?”  
  
“Away from you.”  
  
“Ouch. Cut me deep Tucker.” And he heard a laugh, before hurried footsteps followed after him.   
  
  
This escape plan sucked.  
  
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the image in my head of Craig trying to push Kenny into a box labelled 'Things I hate', and saying "Just get in there!" and Kenny refusing to do as he's told, all with a mischievous smile on his face, just saying "Nope. Nope. Nope".


	2. An Angel with an Upturned Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, at least I'm in the right place for it this time. Come find me at school tomorrow Tucker, okay?"
> 
> "Kenny wait-"

* * *

##  **CHAPTER TWO**

##  **An Angel with an Upturned Face**

* * *

_Chapter Two Song: Martina Mcbride - Concrete Angel_

**Kenny (Age 9) Craig (Age 10)**

* * *

Kenny had always kind of paid attention to Craig. Didn't know why though. He was...a bit standoffish in Kenny's opinion. He had his moments where he wasn't too bad, and they'd occasionally worked together. Sometimes he could be an asshole as well. Okay, their idea of a mariachi band RIGHT after the events of Peru was probably badly timed, but he didn't have to shut the door in their faces!

And the worst part of this weird...relationship they had? He was pretty sure that at one point, the two of them had..almost, sorta gotten along? Maybe?

But then, Stan, Kyle and Cartman would appear, and Craig would turn weird; any hint of budding friendship disappearing in favour of harsh, hard hitting, deadpan critique.

And after a few times of that happening, they'd all but stopped trying, separating out into their own friendship groups. 

They'd grown up with one another, but Kenny didn't know or understand anything about Craig. And okay, Kenny probably didn't help his case all that much with some of the group escapades he'd gotten pulled into, that probably made him look like a troublemaker.

And trouble seemed to be Craig's most hated thing. So by proxy, Kenny was hated by Craig. Probably.

He didn't hate Craig. Craig was--had been pretty cool when they did hang out. That hadn't happened at all since Peru. And Kenny might have tried to fix that, but he'd been kinda distracted by a lot about thoughts that had circled in his head since Cthulhu turned up and left just as abruptly.

Why was he thinking about Craig? Well, the fact he was currently staring at the back of his head, watching him slouch further in his seat as the minutes ticked by. He sat by Token, but he hadn't seemed to acknowledge any other signs of life beyond that. 

  
Why? Why did Craig dislike him so much? Kenny wasn't his group. He could understand why Craig didn't like them as a group. They were...troublemakers. A lot of the time without meaning to be. And Craig wasn't like that with everyone, just with their group.

And originally, when it was just the two of them hanging out, the absence of animosity was apparent.  
  
At least, until very, very recently. Like this morning at the bus stop. Before, their exchange might've been friendlier, but now, Craig just seemed dismissive and cold. And that didn't sit right with Kenny. 

He wasn't sure he could quite call them 'friends', but Kenny _liked_ Craig, and _wanted_ to be his friend, despite his recent...frostiness. And he knew for a fact the two of them worked well together when they put their minds to it. Really well in fact. They were a deadly combination when they wanted to be, when they allied. It was rare for them to pair up, Kenny could only recall two times; they'd been partners for the last school trip they'd taken, and they'd worked together on "Animals Close-Up With a Wide-Angle Lens." And Kenny wanted more of that. 

  
Craig was different to Kenny's usual friends. He had never told him he couldn't join in, or that he couldn't help with something, or that he was too poor to be involved.  
  
And okay, maybe revenge had been on his mind a tiny bit with the Animals close up series. But...he'd enjoyed working with Craig. It was nice to work on something, and not have it end up weird or chaotic in some way. Craig was...calming. He handled chaos with a shrug. And that was oddly...reassuring for him.   
Plus, Animals Close Up had done well. They'd had fun making it, and it'd been fucking cute with all the animals. The fact that it was made better whilst drinking cough syrup was just a lucky fluke. 

In fact, with their recent escapade into 'playing' superheroes, Kenny had been a little...disappointed that Craig hadn't joined in. It was understandable, seeing as Cartman was the leader of the group, but it was still disappointing.

Maybe, if Craig had been there, he would've remembered Kenny shooting himself in the head.

Kenny had considered inviting him, seeing if he wanted to join 'Coon & Friends'. Craig would be a valuable member.

But...Peru.

Stupid fucking Peru. That had ruined everything.   
  
After Peru, things had changed. Craig had been super pissed off at them.

And it was because of that stupid event that Kenny was no longer being considered as separate from his other friends in Craig's eyes. And that...really, really sucked. 

Their two groups had always been roped into a sort of rivalry. ' _Stan's group'_ , and _'Craig and those guys'_. No real room for individualism in the face of gang animosity. And outside of hanging out as groups, that hadn't been an issue to their...sorta friendship. But if he was now only being seen as part of his group...

It would be so much easier if Craig was part of their group. In fact, Craig had gotten close to that scenario.  
  
Of course, it was clearly going to be during a time when Kenny wasn't in the group himself, and was sitting in an urn, wondering what the hell had gone wrong and why he hadn't revived. And that was the only time they'd come close to 'recruiting Craig'. And of course his asshole friends had gone for Tweek instead. It had come down to 'well, he has blond hair like Kenny, so it's the same, right?'

Sometimes, he wondered if he'd still be friends with his group if they hadn't all grown up together. Some bonds were apparently stronger than pettiness.

Craig yawned, the teacher giving him a glare of disapproval in response. Kenny smiled under the hand he was leaning on.

_Craig don' give a fuck!_

The smile faded as he remembered their interaction this morning. It hadn't gone well.

Kenny had tried, he really had, but it seemed as if that door was closed and locked to him now, and he didn't know how to open it.

  
Kenny put his head on his desk.

Honestly, he wasn't sure why he cared so much. Why he was suddenly so...aware of Craig. Why it bothered him so much that Craig no longer wanted to be friends. Why did it bother him? Craig would've made a cool friend yeah, but, it wasn't like it was the end of the world.  
  
  
Why did he care so much?   
  
  
Maybe it was because Kenny didn't like being judged as part of a group unit rather than as an individual.

Maybe it was because he'd been a little concerned that Craig had looked so tired, and…easy to read this morning.

Maybe he just missed hanging out with Craig. And he hadn't realised it was something he liked until it was no longer there. He didn't want to lose that. Not because of one mistake his group had made.

And maybe Kenny was grasping at straws a little. But Craig tended to only show how he really felt with people he trusted. And he'd not hidden that from Kenny this morning, despite his many attempts to push Kenny away. Maybe there was hope.

Or Kenny really was grasping at straws, and Craig had just been far too out of it to even attempt to hide it. He couldn't tell.

There was one thing he could absolutely tell though. Craig had two different coloured eyes now. And Craig had tried to pretend it was normal.

Kenny wasn't Clyde levels of closeness to Craig, sure, but he liked to think he was attentive enough to _know for a fact_ that Craig had brown eyes. Both of them. Always had.

Except now, they no longer matched. Now, one eye was amber instead of brown. And how no one had made a fuss about it yet was still a large mystery to him. 

And he might have assumed it was no big deal, that it had developed recently, that his friends already knew. He might have assumed that, if it wasn't for one little thing.

Craig had been out of it this morning, and had written it off to Kenny as something that was normal and had always been there. That Kenny just hadn't noticed all these years.

Which meant that it wasn't normal, that Craig was trying to hide it, and he'd done a terrible job of it this morning. And that made Kenny suspicious.

  
How long had it been since his eye colour had changed? Kenny thought back, trying to remember the last time he'd seen Craig with two matching eyes. He wished Craig would turn around and look at him so he could check them again. 

He supposed he could try a formulate a scenario in which he could check. And if it meant that they hung out at the same time, well, he supposed he could take that 'blow'. It was for science after all.

  
Looking to his notebook, he scribbled a quick note, and taking aim, threw it at Craig. It was difficult, seeing as he had to get it past Kyle and Cartman without them noticing. Just in case, he lowered his head and pretended to be scribbling after he wrote it. He was pretty sure it had hit its target, but Craig wasn't the type of person to react vocally.   
  
Hopefully he'd be up for it. And then maybe he could get this little mystery out of his head and focus on other things.   
  


* * *

  
  
Craig wanted to sleep so badly, and this class wasn't helping things. Stupid not being able to sleep. 

He yawned lightly, resisting the urge to flip off the teacher when looked at disapprovingly. He didn't want detention today, not when his plan involved going home and sleeping. 

He did have to wonder if it had anything to do with the events of Peru. Not that it should've made any sort of difference, seeing as Cthulhu was walking around not even a day ago. That would be more of a reason to not be able to sleep. Especially as Peru was a good month ago. 

He had felt…antsy since then though. Things didn't feel normal anymore. Maybe he was going crazy, but he felt like…the town was tiptoeing its way to some sort of disaster that it couldn't recover from. And he didn't like his intuition. He preferred logic and evidence, but this little niggle wouldn't leave him alone. 

Plus, there was the 'issue' with his eye, which timed with the events of Peru. Because one was not like the other, and it wasn't something he knew how to deal with. Of course, his parents had noticed, taken him to have it checked. The resulting diagnosis by the ophthalmologist was one of concern. 

He hadn't been born with it, and it hadn't occurred through trauma (although privately , he considered eye beams pretty traumatic in a different sense of the term) 

This apparently meant bad things, that it might be caused by disease. The diagnoser had quoted diabetes, eye tumors, glaucoma. That _'it looked interesting, but indicated a problem._ '

And the real problem? 

They couldn't find out what the problem was. He was perfectly healthy, no issues, no sign of disease or eye problems. 

Not wanting to deal with the issue of explaining things to people, he had tried a coloured contact. A singular contact, which felt stupid, but had worked fine, up until the point he'd tried to take it out at the end of the day, only to find it had disappeared. He'd assumed he'd simply lost it somewhere. 

A month later, he was pretty sure that contacts didn't disappear. His parents had refused to buy him anymore as he kept 'losing them'. 

And he wasn't quite sure how to explain "they disappear, I don't lose them." So this morning, when the two weeks worth of contacts was finally all gone, he'd resigned himself to just having to deal with mismatched eyes. And straight away, Kenny had royally pissed him off by pointing it out. 

He'd played it off as something that was obvious, and 'geez Kenny, you hadn't noticed until now.'

But fuck, he didn't really know what to do about the situation. Well, situation was a strong word. He could _live_ with different eye colours. 

No, the worry was the _niggle_ that this had something to do with his other niggles.  
  
That his eye changing had something to do with the lasers he'd shot out of his eyes as part of some 'great prophecy'.  
  
That an Old One that he'd assumed was fictional and only existed in the books he'd read had turned up like out of a nightmare and had rampaged across the world.  
  
That something unboring was happening, or about to happen.   
  
That unboring things had always happened in their stupid town, but he'd only started to realise it right at this moment.   
  


And he didn't like that one bit. 

  
He barely flinched as what was clearly a paper ball hit him in the back of the head. Suppressing a sigh, he picked the ball up, placing it on his desk, and then ignoring it. He'd throw it away after class.   
  
Except that a few moments later, a second one hit him right in the ear, the noise causing his body to betray him and flinch, this time from the noise than anything. This time, he had to work hard not to growl, and turned to see who had thrown it. A few people were looking in his direction in amusement at having seen the spectacle, Clyde being one of them, Bebe another. Seeing no other culprits, he this time opened up the paper ball.   
  
_Read the other one._ It read. _  
_  
Well that was just irritating. His hand twitched slightly from lack of sleep as it inched towards the first paper ball he'd placed on his table. He unfolded the paper.  
  
  
 _Hey_  
  
 _Wanna skip class and hang out?_  
  
 _K  
  
  
_ Already, Craig had narrowed down the three suspects who used that initial. Kyle, Kenny and Kevin. All three had been bent over their desks writing when he'd looked up. But he was able to narrow it down immediately.   
  
Kyle was both a class nerd, and a stickler for rules when it suited him. He wouldn't want to skip, especially not to hang out with him. Kevin and he barely spoke, despite their overlapping interests in sci fi and space. That left the obvious culprit. The one he'd've chosen even if the clues didn't point to him.   
  
Craig was not going to skip class to hang out with McCormick. He'd had his fill of him for the day this morning. And he waited until Kenny looked up towards him, as he knew he would, and answered him in his usual eloquent fashion.   
  
He flipped him off.   
  


* * *

It probably shouldn't hurt. It was _Craig Tucker_ after all. Craig was known for flipping everyone off. Even when they had hung out, it was a normal occurrence. The difference was the fact that they usually meant different things. Usually, they were neutral, more habitual than anything. The one he'd gotten just then, was a clear 'fuck off'.   
  
But it did. And he'd not bothered with any further questions for the rest of class. He hadn't been looking forward to lunch, as the last thing he wanted to do was sit and talk. But he and the group was currently distracted with an entirely different issue. One that made Kenny question why **Stan's dad** was currently serving them food for lunch.   
  
  
Although... 'serving' was a little generous. Currently, he, Stan, Kyle and Cartman were his 'film crew', and they watched while holding lights, a boom mic, and a camera as Stan's dad demonstrated his dish in their direction.  
  
"Now olive oil does have a low smoke point, so keep that heat low, and keep it fraîche."  
  
Kenny honestly couldn't be annoyed at this. It was kinda fun to watch. Still, they'd been waiting a while for food, and Kenny could see the students in the line getting hungrier and pissed off. This kind of randomness was normal from Stan's dad though. If you weren't used to it by now, you never would be.   
  
"Ohhh, ohh that's so fuckin' hot. Look at that crust, it's perfect. Fuck yeah!"   
  
"Dad! You aren't ever going to be a celebrity chef!"  
  
  
Stan had clearly had enough. Kenny supposed that having to live with such weirdness probably grated on a person after a while. Still, he'd probably swap situations given the chance.   
  
  
"Quiet on set, please." his dad replied distractedly, still focused on his 'perfect crust'.   
  
  
"No Dad, that's enough! You need to be focusing on getting Mom back!"  
  
  
"Back from where?"  
  
  
"Hey, guys, I've got an idea." Kenny heard Kyle murmur quietly to them as Stan tried to get his dad to at least finish serving the students first. He looked over and saw Kyle gesturing away from the line. Quietly, not wanting to be noticed, the three of them left Stan to argue with his dad, stepping off into the cafeteria.   
  
"What's the idea Kahl?"  
  
"Well, we should show Stan's dad that he can't handle the kitchen. And who do we all know who's really good at getting chefs to crack under pressure?"  
  
Kenny looked at Kyle blankly for a moment, trying to recall out of all the people they knew, who would be good at such a thing.  
  
"That's right! Gordon Ramsay."  
  
Wait, what?  
  
"How the hell are we gonna get Gordon Ramsay to come here?" Cartman asked loudly, already gearing up to poke holes in Kyle's plan,   
  
"We aren't. You're gonna dress up and pretend to be him."  
  
"Uh..how?" Kenny finally asked. Cartman however, rather than being put off, seemed to be mulling the idea over. 

"Yes...I'd need a wig, and obviously need to be taller...and..I think I could pull this off."  
  
"Yeah...I've heard Cartman's impersonation before. It's actually pretty good man." Kenny pitched in. It wasn't the worst idea. And it was worth a shot, right?  
  
  


* * *

This place was actually crazy, he was sure of it.   
  
And Craig was almost certain it was the fault of 'the four'. 95% of the time, it was because of something they'd done, and this time was no different.   
  
Right now, he was in the cafeteria. At school. At night. Along with everyone else as they waited for what people were calling "Hell's Kitchen Nightmares Iron Top Chef Cafeteria Throwdown Ultimate Cookoff Challenge!" to be over so they could all leave. Apparently it wasn;t permitted until the best school chef had been chosen. And this had happened because of Stan's dad, and the rest of the group's stupid idea, that was currently sitting in the cafeteria with them, still in the stupid blond wig, having pretended to be Gordon Ramsay. And Craig was pretty sure he saw Stan's dad leave the school at one point. So why were they still here?  
  
He just wanted to go home and try to sleep. He was so tired, and hungry, and was honestly at the end of his rope with all this. He looked over towards the guilty party who sat there, looking just as tired and fed up. Kenny currently had his head on the table and lifted it for a moment to look up blearily.   
  
And Craig felt a tinge of envy. He couldn't sleep at home in his bed, and Kenny was able to nap on a fucking table?  
  
He'd had enough. He stood.   
  
"I'm going home" he announced, making his way to the cafeteria doors. He needed to get out of there. He didn't care that it was midnight.   
  
Why had everyone's parents been okay with this? They'd contacted them all obviously, and for some reason, the idea of their kids being on a cook-off show had been enough to sway any sense of sensible parenting.   
  
  
And he'd just about made it out of the building and down a part of the road before he heard rushed footsteps behind him, along with a call of "Wait up Tucker!"  
  
Craig didn't stop. He didn't want company right now. But despite that, an orange parka soon came into view.   
  
"What?" He asked flatly, his irritation making his nasal tone far more pronounced than usual.   
  
"It's not safe to walk home alone at this time of night. I'll walk with ya."  
  
Craig honestly wanted to tell Kenny that he'd rather be mugged and stabbed in an alley than walk home with a harbinger of trouble and chaos like him, but didn't. He instead, jammed his hands into his pockets and continued walking. Kenny, somehow talking this as acceptance of his offer, kept stride with him.   
  
"So, tonight was pretty fucked up tonight."  
  
"What else is new? Something is always fucked up in this town." he replied. Kenny turned his head to look at him.   
  
"You see it too?"" The words made Craig frown slightly.   
  
"That the town is fucked up? Duh. Who else wouldn't?"  
  
There was silence for a moment.  
  
"You'd be surprised what people forget in this town." he heard quietly.   
  
"How can people forget weird stuff like this?"  
  
Kenny didn't answer, just shrugged and kept walking. And Craig thought that was the end of the conversation, until Kenny spoke up once again.   
  
"Can I show you something?"  
  
Craig felt it then. His 'niggle sense' tingled. Uncomfortable with the feeling, he chose to ignore it.  
  
"What could you possibly have to show me that I would want to see?"  
  
"It'll be kinda spooky, but I wanna see if you remember tomorrow."  
  
"What are you even talking about?"  
  
"It's at the graveyard."  
  
Craig's immediate knee-jerk reaction was to say no, that it was a prank of sorts, that he didn't give a damn what Kenny wanted to show him. But he still felt that niggle, and that it grew stronger. And maybe he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, but if he didn't go, he definitely wouldn't sleep. Which was a stupid thought, along with this stupid niggle. He was a pragmatist, and intuition didn't sit too well with him.   
  
  
"Fine. But if this is some kind of stupid joke..."  
  
"It's not, I swear." And Kenny held his arms up as if to reassure him.   
  
"Lead the way."  
  
And they both walked in silence, away from their houses, instead upwards towards the church, where the graveyard sat. The night was clear, but the stars offered Craig no comfort tonight. They hadn't for a while. What had once been an expanse of space, now seemed cold and uninviting. He looked away from the sky, towards the gates of the church, which was locked. Which didn't stop Kenny in the slightest, as he hopped up onto the stone wall, and then placed hands on the iron railings.   
  
"How's your climbing?"  
  
Craig wordlessly followed suit, and they both found themselves on the inside after an easy climb. Craig had never been here at night. Apparently the goth kids occasionally snuck out to cast 'unholy' rituals against the house of god, but that might just be a rumour. The Church looked harsh and foreboding in the dark, and he felt the slightest trickle of unease, as well as an increase in the incessant niggle that wouldn't leave him alone. And Kenny was leading him towards the graveyard, walking past the gravestones, not stopping to see if Craig was keeping up.   
  
Craig had questions. But they were all pointless ones, so he didn't bother to air them. He'd probably find out soon enough.   
  
Eventually, Kenny stopped at a section, and glanced towards Craig. He then looked back towards one of the graves, and pulled his parka hood down.   
  
Craig always found it really odd to see Kenny without the hood up. It was easy to imagine that Kenny WAS the parka, and nothing else, but when blond hair, facial expressions, and a clear voice appeared, it was kind of hard to not see a total stranger. And the stranger now knelt down and lay a hand on the grave.  
  
"I need you to not freak out Craig, okay?"  
  
And again, Craig didn't answer, instead looking to the gravestone Kenny touched.   
  
  
  
Kenny  
McCormick  
  
"Sleep well little child  
the Lord holds thee now."  
  
  
And Craig felt the niggle surge into a full blown bout of...something.   
  
"Were you..named after a family member or something?" was al he managed to come out with  
  
  
 _Wrong!_ His intuition screamed at him. Kenny shook his head.   
  
"No. It's mine. Those are too." And Kenny gestured.  
  
Craig, who hadn't paid attention to any other graves, noted a mound of gravestones, all in neat rows.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Kenny Kenny Kenny Kenny  
McCormick McCormick McCormick McCormick  
  
"Sleep well little child "Sleep well little child "Sleep well little child "Sleep well little child  
the Lord holds thee now." the Lord holds thee now." the Lord holds thee now." the Lord holds thee now."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I don't understand."   
  
"It's really weird. You'd think that when they came to the funeral, they'd read or notice the gravestones right next to the new one. But they never do." Kenny commented vaguely as he stood. He then looked over at Craig.   
  
"What happened with your eye?"  
  
"Seriously, you're asking me this now? After you've shown me this? I told you if this was a trick-"  
  
"It's not a trick. I'm sorry, I just...I don't expect you to remember tomorrow. I just thought I'd give it a shot and see."  
  
"Remember what?"  
  
Kenny looked towards Craig, and Craig was struck by how...resigned his expression looked.  
  
"I die, and then come back."  
  
 _He's not lying._ His intuition sang.   
  
Of course he was lying. He was stood right here.   
  
"When?" He asked.   
  
"All the time. I die all the time. No one ever remembers. Doesn't matter how, or when, the next day, I wake up as normal, and everyone's forgotten, even if they saw me die. Even if they held my damn hand as I bled out, they don't remember. Only I do."  
  
 _Truth  
  
_ Craig wanted to ignore his weird..intuition. It was clearly broken. But the niggle...it felt like, this explained something. About why things were unboring.   
  
"Why?"  
  
Kenny shrugged.   
  
"I don't know. I thought I got close when Cthulhu arrived. Oh wait, sorry, you wouldn't remember that."  
  
"How the hell would I not remember that? It was a giant Old One. I'm pretty sure the world remembers that."  
  
And Kenny's eyes widened.   
  
"You remember Cthulhu?"  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
And then Kenny looked lost.   
  
"But...No one remembers him. That's another reason why I know he's part of my curse. Craig, no one else remembers him. Not Cartman, or the guys, or anyone. They don't remember where we were sent. They remember Bradley having real super powers, but not what he used them on. Why do you remember? You weren't even in Coon & Friends..."  
  
"What does your stupid superhero game have to do with any of this?"  
  
Kenny shook his head.  
  
"It...It's not a game. Not to me anyway. I do try and watch over the city. I can't die, so I don't exactly have anything to worry about. But Coon & Friends, they were...sent somewhere by Cthulhu. We all were. An undead city. R'lyeh."

And Kenny made to move towards Craig, and instinctively, Craig took a step back. Kenny stopped.  
  
"Craig, you always had brown eyes. You haven't always had different eyes. Something happened, right? Was it Cthulhu?"  
  
Craig shook his head.   
  
"No."  
  
Kenny seemed frustrated that he wouldn't offer anymore information on the subject as he leaned against his gravestone.   
  
"Isn't that a little disrespectful?"  
  
"To myself? Don't worry, I'm fine with it."  
  
There was silence for a moment, Kenny seemingly mulling over something, a frown showing that it was a troubling thought.   
  
"You're taking all this really well. Better than Stan and Kyle did when I told them. They didn't believe me."  
  
"I'm still not entirely sure I do."  
  
Kenny bit his lip thoughtfully, seemingly struggling with something, and he pulled out his phone.  
  
"I'm sorry Craig. I'm about to do something...not pleasant. But I need to know if you remember. I really need this. I just...I don't wanna fuck you up, but I need to KNOW. I'm really sorry if you remember. If you do, I promise I'll explain everything. If you don't, then it won't really matter anyway..."  
  
"What won't matter? What are you going to do?"  
  
Kenny didn't answer.   
  
"Hi, I need an ambulance. At South Park Church. I've just seen two kids in the graveyard, and one of them just shot themselves. Yeah, hurry." Kenny's voice deepened for a moment, before he hung up the phone.  
  
"Kenny. What the fuck?"  
  
"Stay here until the ambulance gets here Craig, they'll make sure you get home safe, okay? And..after it's done, don't look. Don't do that to yourself, kay?" And Kenny looked so apologetic, so guilty at that moment, that Craig found himself nodding.   
  
And before Craig could even move, Kenny had pulled out a pistol and held it to his head.  
  
His last words were said with a smile.  
  
"Hey, at least I'm in the right place for it this time. Come find me at school tomorrow Tucker, okay? If you remember, I'll even let you hit me."  
  
"Kenny wait-"  
  
  
  
BANG  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Time To Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny sighed lightly as they began to move from their lockers towards class. And then it happened. 
> 
> "McCormick!"
> 
> Kenny only had time to turn before he was socked in the jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually put these at the beginning, but for this chapter I feel I need to. There are some slight thematic spoilers for the chapter for this, so if you are content, please continue on without reading these chapter notes any further. 
> 
> Warning. This chapter is dark, and may be disturbing to some. There are elements of the macabre, and it may come across as chilling and frightening to some. Please be assured that the elements in this scene are symbolic.
> 
> And as you know, I always include a song with each chapter I write to accompany the chapter. Be warned that the song for this matches the first part (Craig's part), but will only add to the elements described above. I have included an alternative song alongside the original, for an element of atmosphere, but in a less juddering way. Please go for the alternative song if you find yourself sensitive to horror/chiller.

* * *

##  **  
  
CHAPTER THREE**

##  **Time to Die**

* * *

_  
Chapter Three Song: Earth Girl Arjuna - Time to Die  
Chapter Three Song (Alternative): Adrien Von Ziegler - Ghost Bride_ ****

**Kenny (Age 9) Craig (Age 10)  
**

* * *

**  
Blood everywhere, on his fingers, slipping into the grooves between his nails. He was digging in the dirt, searching for something in it, but the dirt became blood as he dug. His finger stung from the digging, he felt as if he'd been doing so for ages  
  
** _"Come find me."_ **  
  
And he couldn't answer, because he needed to find the thing he was digging for, and he was running out of time, because the lights and the sirens would be here. He didn't remember why, just that they were close, and he needed to do this before it happened.  
  
Blood was dripping down his face, and it kept obscuring his vision. He kept wiping it away and continuing to dig, but no matter how much he wiped, it kept coming.   
  
"There is no point to this." The voice that spoke was different to the earlier one. This one was with him, the other had seemed to be more of a memory of sorts.   
  
Yes there was a point, he told himself, refusing to look up at the voice, unable to see the name on the headstone, unable to identify the voice. If he found what he was looking for, it'd be fine.   
  
And eventually, his fingers knocked on wood, and he feverishly worked to clear it. Until the coffin was in view. And his fingers struggled to lift the lid, and once again, blood filled his vision that he had to swipe away.   
  
"If you look, you cannot go back. It is too late."  
  
Didn't matter, he needed to see. With trembling fingers, he lifted the lid of the coffin.   
  
And it was empty.   
  
"You knew it would be. You knew the last few that it would be the same."  
  
And he looked behind him, and the other graves, and he knew he'd dug them up somehow. But he looked ahead, and saw there was still more to go.   
  
"You need to stop digging blindly."  
  
He shook his head. The sirens would be here soon, and he knew that the answer he needed was in all of them.   
  
He had forgotten the question, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was the answer.   
  
"You know you are dead."  
  
and he spoke for the first time to the voice.   
  
"No. I wasn't the one who died. My....friend was."  
  
  
"...No."  
  
And he looked at his hands. His mangled, rotting hands.   
  
"You dig too long, you only find death as an answer. You cannot go back now Craig."  
  
He looked up from his digging, where the condor sat on the gravestone. The one he couldn't read no matter how hard he tried. The condor cocked its head at him.   
  
"My people. We are born with our eyes open." It remarked.   
  
Craig didn't know how to respond to that. It hopped off of the gravestone, moving towards him.  
  
"Your eyes are not open. They are trying, but the progress is slow." And the condor stood on the ground, eyeing his right hand.   
  
"My eyes are open." He argued. The Condor responded by pecking at his hand, pulling a small sliver of flesh from it, before swallowing it whole.   
  
"They are not. Your eyes. Your Ñawis. They are not open. You are resisting. You are too focused on finding the logical outcome. You are ignoring your Ñawis." And the condor continued to help itself to his hand. **  
  
**"I need that." Craig commented, almost fascinated with what the condor was doing.**  
  
 **"You do not. You do not need your hands. They are not what is real, what is true. Your hands try to take action, to do things, but when you are blind, what is the point? I may as well take them from you."**  
  
 **"No, I need them. The answers are here somewhere."**  
  
 **"They are not. The answers are locked within you. If you open your eyes, you will see them."**  
  
 **And he swiped at the blood covering his vision with his other hand.**  
  
 **"I don't even know what the question is anymore."**  
  
 **"And when you wake up, you will only know half the answer. No question, and part of the answer. You need to speak to yourself, and you need to open your eyes, and then you will know both the question and the answer. But be warned. What you learn in one day will be forgotten the next and you will revert back. Right now, you squint, and can see the shape of the truth, but it is not tangible enough to hold onto."**  
  
 **"I don't...I don't understand."**  
  
 **"That is why I am here. I will remind you, until you do it yourself. Do not chase death, because you will become it, and I will feast upon it, upon you, until you realise."**  
  
 **"But, if I don't chase it, I'll forget. And I know there's a reason I shouldn't forget it. Somewhere here, is the reason why I shouldn't forget, in these graves."**  
  
 **"If you do not have your eyes open, you will have no protection, and the malevolent forces behind the answer will do worse than I. They will devour your mind. You cannot know the full truth until your eyes can see, can protect. Only then, can you help."**  
  
 **"But...the sirens..."**  
  
 **"The madness from malevolence takes whatever force it needs to to prey upon you. I will not let it reach you in time. I will devour you before it arrives. I will try to keep you safe and hidden from it. But you cannot go back now, you must move forward, must be faster than it, must learn to keep it at bay, otherwise it will devour your mind, and there will be no answers, no coming back from that."**  
  
 **The condor had moved onto his chest, and was digging into the cavity with a calm intent.**  
  
 **"If I don't remember, how will I even know what I'm supposed to do?"**  
  
 **"That is why you squint. Enough to see that there is something there, but not enough to identify or announce where you are. And the madness cannot reach you, and you have enough to take your next steps. But it will not work forever. Learning the truth, remembering events that people forgot, seeing horrors such as this. They are an infection, a gateway for the malevolence to enter. And they believe they have prey in you. But they do not, for you are one of ours, and you will not be so easily taken from us."  
  
"Us? There's more of you?"  
  
The condor looked up at him, cocking its head again.  
  
"We are many, and we are here for our own."  
  
"What do you mean 'your own?"  
  
"The ones who will always find solace and guidance with us once awakened. The connection between what is yours, and what is ours."   
  
"A lot of this doesn't make sense." The condor leaned in, pecking at his ear, pulling it away. His hearing lessened, and then faded from the side of the absent ear.  
  
"You do not listen. You only hear. Listen. Find a way to open your Ñawis. To open your eyes. Otherwise your mind will try to fully remember every day, and every night we will have to fight the madness. Only when your eyes are open will you be able to know the answers and be protected from the madness."  
  
  
Craig could hear the sound of a siren. A sobbing in the distance, words that he could almost make out. A name that slipped out and past him. The condor pecked ferociously at his other ear, removing his hearing.  
  
** _Do NOT search for the answers yet! You listen to the wrong things. The things that will harm you. Go now, for I will make sure that you cannot hear, cannot speak, cannot wrongly see, cannot think, before they get here. **He heard this in his head in place of losing his hearing.  
**_ **  
** _How do I even leave?  
  
Lay down. Do not distract me from my task, and I will be able to finish before it arrives, and then you shall awaken. I shall spare you comprehension of the process by focusing on your brain. And you will awaken once I am done.   
  
  
_**And Craig lay down shakily, and felt the peck, peck, peck against his head, heard the crack as his skull finally gave way, felt the scraping and poking of a beak tugging at-  
  
  
  
  
  
** Craig sat bolt upright, his breathing panicked and his heart hammering. He looked around his room wildly, looking for a threat. He ran hands over his head, his ears, his chest. All were fine and normal. He was fine. he was...  
  
Just a dream. He sighed. So, either he couldn't sleep, or he had nightmares when he could. Great.   
  
And...why did he feel so...panicked? Why did he feel a sadness?  
  
Why was he so pissed off at...someone? Someone had done something stupid.   
  
**  
  
**It was..Ke-  
  
Craig jumped as his alarm went off. He slammed a hand on it, silencing it. And he trudged his way to the bathroom, the pieces of his dream slowly fading as he showered. The niggle however, still remained, and by the time he had reached downstairs, he had once again began the process of trying to piece things together in his head.   
His father glared disapprovingly at him as he sat down, and as his mother placed food on the table, she too looked..disappointed in him? Finding this odd, he instead focused on his food, trying to ignore the niggle.  
  
"Don't you forget Craig, straight home tonight." his mother said as she sat down.   
  
"Are we doing something?" He asked.   
  
"Don't be a smartass. You know why." His father answered as he picked up his own fork.   
  
He really didn't. He glanced over towards Tricia, and raised an eyebrow at their parents' weird behaviour. She just flipped him the bird. He returned the favour.   
  
"...Did I do something?"  
  
"Craig Tucker! We've been through this all last night, when you walked home BY YOURSELF at gone midnight!"  
  
Craig stilled. That hadn't happened at all. He...  
  
How had he gotten home?  
  
He felt like he'd been given a ride of sorts. Maybe the teachers?  
  
No wait, he'd started walking home, and then...he'd been picked up at the church.  
  
...Which was the opposite direction to his house from the school.   
  
Why had he been at the church? And why did it have something to do with how pissed off he suddenly found himself at Kenny.  
  
Something had happened yesterday, Kenny had done something to piss him off at the church. What was it...  
  
"Craig. CRAIG are you listening to me?!"  
  
He auto glanced to his mother, who was now looking at him with clear irritation.   
  
"Do you understand what I'm telling you? I don't want you ever doing something like that again!"  
  
"Okay mom." He answered blandly, wanting to focus back on his thoughts once more. Something didn't line up. And the only clues he had were last night, the church, and Kenny. Those were the only factors in his mind that made sense and stuck out to him.   
  
Kenny had done something. Something really bad. At the church. And afterwards, he'd gotten a ride home. He remembered his parents being relieved last night, not angry. They'd hugged him because he'd been shocked by someth-  
  
 _"Come find me at school tomorrow Tucker, okay? If you remember, I'll even let you hit me."  
  
_ Kenny...he'd said that to him. Kenny hadn't expected him to remember something. Had they gone to the church to get drunk?  
  
No...that wasn't right...  
  
Why did the thought of Kenny fill him with such...anger? He wasn't an angry person, but he currently wanted to punch Kenny's lights in for what he had done last night.   
  
What was going on?  
  


* * *

Kenny hadn't seen Craig yet, and he would be the first to admit that he hadn't foreseen himself searching through the crowds of students for the familiar chullo hat.   
  
Did Craig remember?  
  
He didn't know why he was getting his hopes up. It wasn't likely. The fact that Craig had remembered Cthulhu was a coincidence. Kenny was trying to tie things together that didn't necessarily fit.   
  
There was only one other person that knew, that remembered. Guardian Angel. And he knew nothing about him. Didn't even know what he looked like. He had blue eyes. That was about it.   
  
Kenny sighed lightly as they began to move from their lockers towards class. And then it happened.   
  
"McCormick!"  
  
Kenny only had time to turn before he was socked in the jaw. And he hadn't expected it, so the whiplash caused him to hit the back of his head against his locker. And he saw stars for a moment as he blinked away the white spots dancing in his vision.   
  
Craig stood there. But before he could even react to the revelation that Craig had just hit him, and what that could mean, Stan and Kyle were there at his side.   
  
"What the hell Craig?! What did you do that for!" Stan spat angrily at Craig. Craig ignored him, glaring at Kenny.  
  
"Kenny did something to piss me off yesterday, and he said I could hit him if I remembered."  
  
Kenny's eyes widened. Stan's expression turned quizzical.   
  
"Wait, what did Kenny do yesterday?"  
  
"I don't know. All I know is that we walked home, and then ended up at the church, and then he did...something, and it pissed me the hell off."  
  
"What are you even talking about? Kenny walked home with us last night." Kyle contributed, his eyebrows knitted in a mixture of confusion and irritation.   
  
"Right Kenny? You walked home with us?"  
  
Kenny looked from Kyle and Stan, to Craig.   
  
"R-Right." He replied. But he shook his head at the same time at Craig.   
  
"Well then. You need to back the fuck off Craig, and stop starting fights over stuff you imagined."  
  
And Craig looked at Kenny for a moment, and then turned abruptly, walking away from class. Kenny watched him go.  
  
"He's so fucking weird sometimes." Stan muttered as they made their way in the opposite direction, towards class.   
  
"Apparently my mom told his mom he was a bad influence on us. Maybe she's right."  
  
"Can I borrow your homework for a sec? Garrison's gonna kill me if I don't put something down."  
  
"Sure. You need it too Kenny...Kenny?"  
  
Kenny was no longer standing beside them, or in the vicinity.   
  


* * *

Craig was at the side of the school, where the goth kids usually sat and smoked.  
  
Apparently he'd imagined last night then.   
  
_Lie._ The niggle inside him sang.   
  
Why would he imagine something last night that didn't happen? And more importantly, _why couldn't he remember it?_  
  
"Craig!"  
  
Craig knew who the voice belonged to. He didn't bother looking over.  
  
"Look. I'm sorry about just then. It just...I didn't want to make it complicated in front of the guys for the rest of the day." Kenny panted as he tried to catch his breath. Apparently he'd run after Craig.   
  
"Tell me what happened last night. I know something happened. I know we walked to the church. I know you didn't walk home with Stan and Kyle." Was all Craig said as he finally looked at Kenny.  
  
"First, tell me everything you remember. I need to know Craig. Please"  
  
Craig sighed.   
  
"Yesterday, we left school at stupid o clock. You'd said it wasn't safe to walk home alone. You then said...you wanted to show me something."  
  
"After you mentioned Cthulhu, right?"  
  
"Cthulwho?"  
  
Kenny's face fell.   
  
"You forgot Cthulhu?"  
  
"Are you talking about the Old One from the books?"  
  
"Well yeah, but I mean-you know what, never mind, carry on."  
  
"And we ended up at the Church. And..we walked past the gravestones. I think you showed me one of the graves...or..it wasn't just one...and then, you...did something. You said you needed to know. You apologised. You said If I remembered, I could hit you. And...you did....something, I don't remember that bit. But I remember it being really bad, and then..I didn't walk home, I got a ride I think. And my parents were fine with things. But this morning, I woke up grounded, because I'd apparently walked home myself, and then Stan and Kyle remember walking home with you, even though I know you didn't."  
  
Kenny's eyes had gotten wider and wider throughout his story, and they looked at him disbelievingly.   
  
"You...almost remember. Like, you didn't get any false memories at all."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Craig asked as Kenny started frantically pacing.   
  
"I don't know if there's a point to saying...but maybe it would jog your memory?"  
  
 _No, this is a bad idea. Don't remember yet!  
  
_ Craig shook his head slightly at the...feeling.   
  
"What's wrong?" Kenny had stopped pacing and was now peering at his face, once again not respecting any personal boundaries. Craig stepped back.   
  
"It's nothing. Just...doesn't matter."  
  
"Is it something to do with last night? With you remembering? Maybe there's a reason to do with it."  
  
"A reason?"  
  
"Yeah, why you would remember when no one else does. I'll be honest...I thought it had something to do with your eyes. You-"  
  
  
 ** _"-_ _I_ _f_ _you open your eyes, you will see them."  
_**  
  
 ** _"-Find a way to open your Ñawis. To open your eyes. Otherwise your mind will try to fully remember every day, and every night we will have to fight the madness. Only when your eyes are open will you be able to know the answers and be protected from the madness."  
_**  
  
 _ **-Blood. Dirt. Digging up graves. Dirt and blood under his nails. The peck peck peck sound on his skull, the sound when it cracks-  
**  
  
_ "-aig? Craig, what's wrong? Dude, you need to breat-"  
 **  
  
** _ **-Blood was dripping down his face, and it kept obscuring his vision. He kept wiping it away and continuing to dig, but no matter how much he wiped, it kept coming.  
**_  
  
 _ **"-The madness from malevolence takes whatever force it needs to to prey upon you. I will not let it reach you in time. I will devour you before it arrives. I will try to keep you safe and hidden from it. But you cannot go back now, you must move forward, must be faster than it, must learn to keep it at bay, otherwise it will devour your mind, and there will be no answers, no coming back from that."  
**_  
 **  
**"-ome on, you need to calm-" **  
  
  
 _"-You know you are dead."  
_  
  
 _-He looked at his hands. His mangled, rotting hands.  
_  
  
 _"-You dig too long, you only find death as an answer. You cannot go back now Craig."  
  
  
"-Stay here until the ambulance gets here Craig."  
  
_  
 _"-Craig."  
_  
  
 _"-dead Craig"  
_  
  
  
** "-Craig!" **  
  
  
_He lay down, to be devoured....but something was shaking him-something was-he needed- to remember_  
  
  
** "-C'mon, breathe with me!"  
 **  
**

_Breathe_

_I can't. I'm dead._

_**-His heart pounding in his ears. When he saw Kenny-  
**  
  
 **"-Come find me at school tomorrow Tucker, okay? If you remember, I'll even let you hit me."  
**  
  
 **"-Kenny wait-"**  
  
  
  
 **-BANG  
  
-BANG  
  
-BANG  
  
-BANG  
  
-BANG  
  
  
** _

_**His heart banging against his chest. Being pulled out of his chest cavity.  
  
  
"-Kenny wait-"  
  
  
-BANG  
  
  
** **-A smile frozen for a moment. Time stopping.-  
** **  
  
** **-Blood and blond hair. Blood and blond hair and brains and blood and blond hair-**_  
  
  
He gasped, eyes opening at the sharp sting on his face.   
  


"Craig. Dude, you back with me? You need to calm your breathing. I think you're hyperventilating."  
  
"-You-"  
  
"Don't talk dude, just breathe. Count with me, okay? Breathe in, and count up in fours until you reach twenty. Breathe out, and count down in fives until you reach zero."

And after following those surprisingly logical instructions, Craig finally felt a deep rush of air that he hadn't realised he'd been missing., and he felt the lightheadedness and nausea that he hadn't even noticed subside, leaving him with a headache that made his eyes hurt.   
  
"Fuck...what was that?"   
  
He felt a hand he hadn't noticed on his back, rubbing it in slow, circular motions.   
  
"I think you were panicking about something. Are you okay now?" Kenny asked gently.   
  
"I remembered something. I wasn't supposed to, but I remember."  
  
Kenny looked like he wanted to ask, but looked away instead.   
  
"You...you shot yourself last night. In the head."  
  
Kenny's head whipped back to look towards Craig so quickly Craig was sure he'd caused some kind of whiplash.   
  
"What makes you say that?" He asked guardedly.   
  
"I remember it. I remember that I'm not supposed to remember it. It's...dangerous."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I..." he was not going to tell Kenny that a damn bird had told him so. That was ridiculous.   
  
"...I don't know. I think remembering you dying is a bad thing. Something to do with malevolent forces, madness."  
  
Kenny was scrutinising him.   
  
"Craig, when did your eyes change?"  
  
"Why does that matter?"  
  
"Please. Humour me."  
  
"...Started in Peru. After the..."  
  
"Because of the eye beam thing?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Cartman, Stan and Kyle don't remember that."  
  
"...What?"  
  
"I mean, they remember us being sent to Peru. That you hated us for screwing you out of your birthday money. They remember all that. They don't remember everything though. No eye lazers, no giant guinea pigs, no picture of you on an ancient wall."  
  
"You remember." Craig pointed out.   
  
"No point the forces that be hiding it from me. I remember dying after all. And you do too. That makes three of us."  
  
"I don't think I'll remember tomorrow. I think it resets most of it for-wait, three of us?"  
  
"Yeah. But I'll keep that one close to my chest for now. There's no point going into too much detail if you have to forget it tomorrow....for whatever reason. And you forgot Cthulhu."  
  
"What does a fictional creature have to do with this?"  
  
Kenny sighed at this.   
  
"...Doesn't matter. We should...get to class."  
  
"Kenny...why are you alive? If you shot yourself?"  
  
"I can't die. It's my curse."  
  
"How-"  
  
"Dude, trust me, I want nothing more than to talk about this with someone who believes me, but we shouldn't do it here."  
  
And Kenny made to move, but stopped at Craig's next words.   
  
"Don't do that again."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Shoot yourself in the head."  
  
"I'll make you a deal. Try and remember tomorrow, and then I'll consider it, and I'll tell you more about my curse. Deal?"  
  
Craig frowned, and then nodded, before following behind Kenny back towards the inside of the school.  
  


* * *


	4. Dancing with the Demons in our Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dude, Kenny, I'd fucking miss you if you died!"
> 
> "It's fine. Craig saved me. My hero!" 
> 
> “...Let’s just get to lunch.”

* * *

##  **  
  
CHAPTER FOUR**

##  **  
Dancing with the Demons in our Minds**

## 

* * *

_Chapter Four Song: Mans Zelmerlow - Heroes_

**Kenny (Age 9) Craig (Age 10)  
  
**

* * *

  
  
  
Kenny felt a mix of feelings.   
  
Someone finally knew that he could die. 

Out of all the people he could've picked to remember, he wouldn't have necessarily chosen Craig Tucker, but he supposed Craig was up there on his list of people he liked. 

Plus, outside? Craig had been.. vulnerable for a moment. He'd lost his composure, had closed his eyes and then stopped breathing. And Kenny only realised that when Craig had started choking. It hadn't been a panic attack, it was more like he'd forgotten how to breathe, and his body had panicked and tried to force it, which, once he'd come back to himself, had caused hyperventilation as a panic response.

He'd never seen anything like that before. People didn't just..stop breathing. Not unless they were dying or choking or something. And he'd choked, drowned and generally laughed himself to death before, so he considered himself more of an expert than most on matters of breathing and not breathing.

And Craig had been fine up until the point he'd mentioned his eyes, and then he'd gone into whatever weird trance that caused him to decide that air was for mortals, not him.

He hoped he hadn't traumatised him,and this was how he related trauma, because he'd feel so bad. He really needed to not shoot himself in the head in front of people if there was a chance people were going to remember. Even if, in his defense,this was the first time it had happened after he had done so. 

And he eyed up a poster being put on the wall as he walked straight past his class. He didn't want to sit in class at the moment.   
  


**_Boys Student Physical Results_ **

_Craig Tucker 2.4_

_Butters Stotch 2.2_

_Stan Marsh 2.1_

_Kyle Broflovski 2.4_

_Token Black 2.3_

_Timmy Burch 2.4_

_Kenny McCormick 2.4_

_Tweek Tweak 1.9_

Huh, so he, Craig, Kyle and Timmy had grown the most this year. 

Kenny always hoped that he'd be tall. A bit of a pipedream considering his nutritional habits weren't the best, but apparently genetics were helping him out here. Hopefully the spurt would continue. Kyle would probably be pleased as well, he wanted to be taller for basketball. 

Craig was going to be tall, of that he had no doubt. His behemoth of a father was one factor, and his mom was surprisingly tall as well. There was no way he'd miss those tall genes. Lucky bastard.  
  
Kenny frowned for a moment, feeling an odd sensation creeping over him, inside him. Something he’d not felt before, but something he...recognised.   
  
Because it felt the same as it had when he had stood in R'lyeh.   
  
Fuck. That wasn’t good.   
  
Not wanting to be seen in the hallway and sent to class, he decided to go to the one place he might get some peace for an hour or so. That’s all he needed. Just time to read, to check. To find out what this was.

And as he reached his destination, he knocked on the door.

A woman answered

"Oh, Kenny. You feeling poorly?"

"A little. Feel light headed and have a bad headache. Was wondering if I could lie down for a bit. Maybe if I feel better, I can go back to class."

"Of course, you poor thing. Need me to call your parents?"

"No, that's okay, I think I just need some time to rest."

"Of course hun. Hop on up on the bed. Does Mr Garrison know?"

"...No, I came here straight away."

"Well, don't you worry, I'll just head on over and let him know real quick. You gonna be okay on your own for a few minutes?"

"Yeah,I'll be okay. Is it okay to lie down."

"Sure. You wanna take your coat off?"

"No, that's okay, it kinda keeps the light out. Lights kinda hurt my eyes."

"Well I'll close the curtains and let you get some rest then,okay?"

And she did so, before heading out the door.

Now alone, Kenny wanted to curl up, wanted to try and avoid the weird...creeping, crawling tendril sensation inside him. The feeling that he was being watched from the inside. He instead reached into his backpack for the book that sat in there.   
  
The copy of the Necronomicon that he had ‘borrowed’ from the goth kids without their permission or knowledge after the Cthulhu events.   
  
He’d hoped it would’ve had answers to his curse. What he found was a little worse, something that made him realise that he’d need to switch his priorities from finding answers for himself, to trying to figure out what the hell to do.  
  
The book was a responsibility he wasn’t happy to have, but he realised the necessity of it. He needed to understand his enemy. Especially now that he knew he wasn’t the only one that had remembered Cthulhu.   
  
Was it enough that Craig had forgotten the next day? Was that enough to protect him?  
  
  
The creeping feeling slid up his leg, his thigh, his side. It felt perverse and invasive, even if it was phantom in nature. And he didn’t know what it was. He could hazard some likely guesses. He ignored it as he turned the pages, scanning through the text.  
  
If he was to connect things based on evidence, and what he’d read, he’d say that Cthulhu was saying ‘hi’.  
  
The book had stated that Cthulhu was a creature where even hearing of it could bring nightmares. And that seeing Cthulhu opened a gateway between Cthulhu and the person, and Cthulhu would use that link, to peer outwards, to slowly drive the mind of the person into madness.  
  
He’d seen Cthulhu, he’d not forgotten about it. And he’d spoken to Cthulhu, antagonised him, pretty much revealed his immortality and his ability to escape R'lyeh.   
  
He could be wrong, entirely wrong, but it was all he had to go on. That and the fact that the creeping feeling felt like R'lyeh. Those two snippets were enough for him to assume that he’d roused Cthulhu’s attention.  
  
  
What was worse was the frustrating format of information on Cthulhu in this stupid book. The information that was available was written enigmatically, in vague, prophetic terms.   
  
He had managed to gather a few snippets.   
  
_"In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."_  
  
 _“_ _When conditions are right, the city will rise, and, with the help of the eternal Cthulhu cult, Cthulhu will awaken and again rule the world.”_  
  


 _“The Old Ones, They were not composed altogether of flesh and blood. They had shape, but that shape was not made of matter. When the stars were right, They could plunge from world to world through the sky; but when the stars were wrong, They could not live. But although They no longer lived, They would never really die. They all lay in stone houses in Their great city of R'lyeh, preserved by the spells of mighty High Priest Cthulhu for a glorious resurrection when the stars and the earth might once more be ready for Them.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_Kenny heard the door open, and hid the book under his pillow, pretending to be asleep. The curtains moved slightly, and then moved once again, Kenny risked a peek and saw that the nurse was no longer there. Carefully, he pulled the book out once again.  
 _  
_ _So..._ Cthulhu was a priest of some kind? And it was supposed to be asleep in R'lyeh. And there was a mention of stars being ‘right’, that they were safe when the stars were ‘wrong’.   
  
What the hell did all this even mean? How was this supposed to help him prevent this?  
  
And these ‘Old Ones’. There were apparently worse things out there. The idea that Cthulhu wasn’t the worst possibility was terrifying. And Kenny hadn’t realised just how bad it was that Cthulhu had been awoken. Even if Bradley had sent him back into slumber ‘somehow’, how long would that last?  
  
  
Kenny eventually curled into himself in protection as the tendrils recognised the subject matter of his thoughts and reacted..fervently. Almost...preening at the attention. Luckily however, whatever this odd...curse of his was, it was something that had protected him and others. No one remembered Cthulhu. Not even Cartman. And that was more valuable that Kenny had first realised.   
  
People didn’t remember him coming back after dying. Which meant they couldn’t link it to an occult cult ceremony gone wrong, which meant they couldn’t link it to Cthulhu.   
Which meant they were safe.   
  
And him? Well, he remembered Cthulhu, so he wasn’t safe. But it didn’t matter what Cthulhu did to him, when he even bothered to reach out. The worst he could do was attempt to turn him mad, and if he felt himself...slipping, he’d end his life. Everything reset once he died, no matter the ailment, so he felt relatively safe.  
  
But Craig knew things.  
  
Kenny sat upright at that revelation, and the tendrils stopped, as if reacting to the change in thoughts.  
  
 _Fuck, change thoughts quickly!_ _  
_ _  
_But he felt the tendrils leave him, the sensations fade away.  
  
And then the sound of the school bell.  
  
Wait, it was lunchtime already? How long had he been reading?  
  
Kenny was up, book in bag, off the bed and into the hallway before the nurse could even react to tell him not to run in the hallway.  
  
Skidding down the hallway, he watched as the fifth grade class filed out, heading towards the cafeteria. He spied Craig, who was walking with Clyde and Token. He looked okay enough, although he supposed ‘beset by creepy, inner eldritch voyeurism’ didn’t really have an expected reactionary expression.   
  
Plus, this was Craig. Craig could be dying, and Kenny would question if that was the case by the blank expression.   
  
Kenny frowned, and then jogged to catch up with the three.  
  
“Hey guys! What’s up?”  
  
Craig didn’t reply, leaving the communication to Clyde, who gave an easy smile.  
  
“Heyya Kenny, what’s up?”  
  
“Not much”  
  
“Didn’t see you in class.”  
  
“Yeah, I skipped.” He grinned.   
  
“You’re gonna fall behind if you do that.You need notes?” Token commented.   
  
“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”  
  
Token shook his head.  
  
“It’s cool.” And he dug into his back to retrieve them.  
  
“Aww, thanks Token, you’re the best!”  
  
“I know.” Token commented with an indulgent smile.   
  
“You guys wanna come and sit with us for lunch?” Kenny asked.   
  
“Sounds good.” Clyde confirmed, Token nodding.   
  
Kenny looked to Craig, feeling a little bad. This was essentially social peer pressure, but he wanted to keep an eye on Craig, just in case anything weird happened. And Craig apparently knew he didn’t have too much of a choice, as he shrugged.  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
 _Sorry Craig.  
  
_ He wanted to make sure Craig was safe from whatever...that had been.   
  


* * *

  
  
Why were his friends being so chummy with Kenny? He was part of the group that caused them the most trouble. He didn’t get it.  
  
Kenny was currently slightly ahead of them, walking backwards, facing them and chattering to Token and Clyde. He wasn’t paying too much attention to the ‘small talk’. He didn’t actually care.   
  
He disliked that he’d been suckered into sitting with said group for lunch. Surely Kenny knew he didn’t like them, recent events between the two of them notwithstanding. So why the hell would he drag the two groups together?   
  
He wasn’t exactly in the best of moods. His niggle sense, as he’d started to dub it, was going crazy, for no reason whatsoever. He felt really, really antsy. And he hated it.   
  
He felt like he was hypersensitive to something. Almost like he expected something to happen.   
  
And he was so busy analysing it, he almost missed it when the event happened. A new drinks machine was being installed ahead of them, and he saw it moments before it happened.   
  
_That is too heavy for two people with no proper equipment. They’re gonna drop it._ _  
_ _  
_ And one of the lifters overcompensated how much strength was needed to shift it, and it began to tip the opposite way. The man on the other side had already moved to the side of it, not expecting it to start tipping where he’d previously stood.   
  
And the worst that would have happened was the drinks machine falling over, except his niggle sense was going crazy, and he saw what was going to happen and reacted before he’d even realised. It wasn’t dramatic, he just stepped forward, tugging on Kenny’s arm, pulling him back ever so slightly.   
  
And it was enough, as the machine toppled in front of them, where Kenny had been about to step. Where he hadn’t been watching where he was going.   
  
“Holy shit...Kenny you almost died.” Clyde breathed as the machine hit the floor, causing all the students in the vicinity to look around at the sound.   
  
“Fuck! Are you kids okay?” One of the lifters moved towards them in concern.   
  
“We’re fine.” Token nodded, his eyes on Craig. Who still had his hand on Kenny’s arm. Craig dropped Kenny’s arm, avoiding everyone’s gaze.  
  
"Dude, Kenny, I'd fucking miss you if you died!"  
  
Craig glanced at Kenny, who had turned his attention to Clyde for the moment.   
  
"It's fine. Craig saved me. My hero!" And Kenny turned his swooning expression on Craig.   
  
“...Let’s just get to lunch” He grumbled, ignoring the fact that his niggle had calmed slightly.   
  
But Clyde was looking at him with a quizzical expression.   
  
“Dude. I swear I’m going crazy. You usually have brown eyes, right?”   
  
“Nope.” Maybe he could play this off. It hadn't worked on Kenny, but Clyde was not Kenny.   
  
Clyde squinted at Craig.   
  
“But...I swear you always had brown eyes. Are you wearing contacts?”   
  
  
  
He opened his mouth to answer that no, he had heterochromia. Maybe he could fool them into thinking it had always been that way, but he caught a movement and glanced at Kenny, who had wide eyes, shaking his head.   
  
What the hell?   
  
Kenny tugged on the part of his parka hood that covered his mouth. Token and Clyde faced him, so didn’t see Kenny do so.   
  
_Both yellow_ Kenny mouthed.   
  
What? Fucking what? When?   
  
“Craig?”   
  
“Yeah. Contacts.” He replied. Clyde relaxed.   
  
“Cool. I didn’t know they did coloured contacts in those colours.”   
  
“Why?” Was all Token asked.   
  
“Why not?” He shrugged. Play it off, deflect. Token was smart, so anything he said could be incriminating himself.   
  
Token nodded.   
  
“Fair point. Lunch?”   
  
“You guys go ahead. Bathroom. Save me a seat.”   
  
“Want me to grab your lunch?” Clyde offered.   
  
“Sure. Thanks.”   
  
And he walked calmly away, calmly towards the toilets, calmly opened the door. It was only once the door was closed, and he was able to confirm that no one else was there, that he moved quickly towards the sinks, looking in the mirror.   
  
Two yellow eyes stared back at him from his face.   
  
“What the fuck?”  
  


* * *

He sat there quietly, ignoring Butters' random story. Was there actually something wrong with him? Was it some sort of illness or disease? The first time, it had been a fluke. But this time, it was a sign of progression. And he didn't know what was causing it.   
  
"-turns out the Terminator secretly had a kid, ten years ago. Meaning Terminator could be his own father. And then Skeletor gets angry and wants to fight him."   
  
What the fuck was Butters on about?  
  
"...No, dude, that's not the trailer for Terminator 5, that really happened."  
  
Oh. Terminator 5.   
  
"Skeletor is real??"  
  
"No, dude, that's not Skeletor, that's Terminator's wife."   
  
"Skeletor's a lady??"  
  
Weirdly, the randomneess of the story was calming. Maybe it was all okay. Maybe he was overreacting about this. No one but Clyde had said anything about it anyway. Maybe-  
  
"Goddamnit!"  
  
The table glanced over at the clearly pissed off voice. Great. Cartman was here.   
  
"Who the fuck do they think they are?! This is the last fucking straw! I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL EVERYBODY!"  
  
Craig inwardly rolled his eyes. This sounded like the start of something utterly ridiculous. This was how all the group's dumb plots started.   
  
"Hey Eric." Butter greeted Cartman, who ignored him in favour of grabbing the table and shaking it.  
  
"I AM SO SICK OF THIS FUCKING SKEEEWL!. This stupid school and its stupid principal have gone too far this time!!"   
  
"You get in trouble again, Cartman?" Ah, and there was Kyle, pouncing on an opportunity to put his friend in place.   
  
"No, I didn't do a damn thing! Nothing! I told you, this school is a DEN of SNAKES! You're not gonna believe what they did this time, you guys!"  
  
"Dude we're, we're just trying to eat." Of course, Stan, the 'level headed' one. At least he liked to think that. He liked other people to think that. This was all playing out like a well rehearsed play. One that Craig had been to see far too many times to even care anymore. This was clearly leading somewhere he didn't want to go.   
  
"Oh, you think I'm overreacting again, huh?! No! Not this time! The school has gone too far, and it affects each and every one of you! You remember the school physical we all took last week?!"  
  
"Yeah." Stan spoke slowly.   
  
"Well, the school put the sizes of all our penises up on a big chart in the school hallway!"  
  
"No they didn't." Kyle was quick to argue.   
  
"Yeah they fucking did, Kyle!"  
  
"Dude, why would the school put up the sizes of our wieners?"  
  
"Because they don't fucking care! I've told you this! They don't give a shit about the students, and they live to make us miserable!"  
  
"That doesn't make any sense...." Kyle looked thoughtful now, as if actually considering Cartman's words to be true. Idiot.   
  
"Go look for yourselves!!"  
  
And Cartman stormed off to the hallways. After a moment or two, Kyle followed, and then Stan. Slowly, the boys of fifth grade filtered out to see this spectacle.   
  
Apart from two of them.   
  
"You know that chart isn't what Cartman thinks it is, right?" Kenny commented from where they still sat at their table.   
  
"Of course it isn't. The school wouldn't do that. Cartman's gonna make a fool of himself doing something stupid again."  
  
Craig saw Kenny's eyes glint.   
  
"Wanna have a little fun with it?"  
  
Craig frowned.   
  
"I thought Cartman was your friend."  
  
"I owe him for something he did recently. Trust me, in comparison, this is tiny in revenge."  
  
Craig was fine with a bit of trickery at Cartman's expense.   
  
"If I end up in Peru, I'm gonna kill you."  
  
Kenny laughed.   
  
"No visits to Peru, I promise."  
  
"Okay, what do you have in mind?"  
  


* * *

The two of them caught up to the group pretty quickly, just in time for Cartman to point to the height chart. Kenny grinned behind the safety of his parka. Cartman could be such an idiot sometimes. And yes, maybe it was a little mean, going along with his delusion, but Kenny still hadn't quite forgiven Cartman for sending their entire group to R'lyeh and siding with Cthulhu for his own personal gain. And Kenny considered it decent of him that he hadn't attacked Cartman for what he'd done. A little harmless fun was a tiny thing in the grand scale of things.   
  
Cartman pointed wildly at the chart. Already, Kenny could see a few confused faces. It was fine. And as Kenny glanced at the chart, he could see why Cartman was upset. 1.2 inches. Yeah, this was gonna be fun.   
  
"There, you see?! Can you fucking believe it?!" Cartman spat.  
  
Butters looked confused at the revelation.   
  
"Is that really all our wiener sizes?" He asked, appealing to Cartman for confirmation. Others still looked sceptical, but not completely disbelieving.   
  
"Yeah, dude, look at it! It says right there: "Eric Cartman, 1.2 inches"! Why would they tell everybody that?! They wanna measure my wiener?! Fine! But don't put me on blast!"  
  
Craig then stepped forward to look at the chart, the other boys watching him. One of the reasons it was useful having Craig in on the joke. People liked him. The other boys in the class respected him. He was top on the girl's list for 'cutest boy', even Cartman, despite complaints, appreciated having Craig on his side.   
  
Craig was a more powerful ally than he himself realised, Kenny suspected. If Craig pretended to believe this, the other boys were likely to go along with it. Because Craig was calm, was pragmatic, was logical. He wasn't wild and emotional like Cartman. He wasn't known for chaos like Kenny and his group. True, he was sent to the councillor's office a lot, which made him seem like a 'troublemaker', but most of the time, it was because he'd been blunt, or flipped someone off. The only time Kenny had ever seen Craig actually get into a fight was when he and Tweek had fought, and that had been Cartman, Stan and Kyle's influence mostly.   
  
Craig was stable and consistent. And had the trust of the fifth grader boys.   
  
  
Said fifth grader boys watched as Craig looked at the list in silence for a moment.   
  
"2.4 inches. Yeah, that's about right." he finally spoke, his face betraying nothing as he stepped back.   
  
And with that declaration, the rest of the boys slowly looked closer at their own scores. Perfect.   
  
"2.2 inches. Is that good?" Butters asked nervously.   
  
"How big do they say mine is?"   
  
"Wait, it says mine's only 2.1 inches. That doesn't seem right...."  
  
"No shit, Sherlock! My dick isn't 1.2 inches either! It ISN'T! This is another conspiracy by the school faculty!"  
  
"A conspiracy?"  
  
"They're trying to stir up some big thing again, get all the girls all heated up - freaking out - over which boy has the biggest schlong! This has to be dealt with!"  
  
"Well everyone has already seen it; nothing we can do about it now."  
  
  
Kenny was hoping, praying that wouldn't be enough for Cartman.   
  
  
"Oh, there's something we can do about it alright! If they're gonna put us on blast, they're at least gonna get the numbers right! We are going to remeasure!!"  
  
  
  
Hook, line and sinker.  
  
  


* * *

  
Later on, both Craig and Kenny could be found walking home. Kenny laughing as he filled Craig in on the parts he'd missed.   
  
"And then, they stormed a Federal Express and started burning it. And that's when the Surgeon General changed the national average size from 6 inches to 1.5 inches! And Cartman is still considered 'under average'. Ah shit, I can't breathe! So good." And Kenny pulled down his hood so he could breathe and continue laughing. He'd died from laughing before (which had actually been a form of suffocation), so he'd learned from that mistake.   
  
"I can't believe it was taken so far." Craig commented as Kenny laughed.   
  
"It's Cartman, are you honestly surprised? The amount of shit he drags people into. Oh wait, I can tell you this, because it won't sound weird. Did you know he once DRANK my ashes from one of my deaths because he thought it was chocolate milk, and I ended up stuck in his body for ages!"  
  
"When was this?"  
  
"Ah, a while back I died, but yeah, I dunno, I didn't revive or whatever. I got stuck. And then Cartman drank my ashes, and we shared his body for a while."  
  
"That sounds like it would've sucked."  
  
Kenny turned to look at Craig.   
  
"You know, I don't think I can say anything that would surprise you. You don't think that story's kinda weird?"  
  
Craig shrugged.   
  
"This town is weird."  
  
"True..."  
  
And they continued walking in a companionable silence for a while.  
  
"Oh yeah. Thanks by the way."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"Saving my life. Earlier with the drink's machine."  
  
Craig shrugged again.  
  
"It's fine. Besides, you'd just revive again tomorrow, right?"  
  
Kenny offered a wistful smile.   
  
"It hurts when I die. Like, really, really hurts. And I miss an entire day as well. Thanks for...stopping that. Kinda cool of you."  
  
"Yeah, anytime."  
  
And Kenny and Craig slowed as they reached Craig's house.   
  
"Will you come find me tomorrow if you remember?" Kenny asked.   
  
Craig nodded.   
  
"Did...you feel anything weird today? During lunch?"  
  
"...No?"  
  
"Oh. Awesome. I'll...see you tomorrow then?" Kenny offered a little awkwardly. He wasn't quite sure what they were just yet. Maybe they were moving back into the category of friends?  
  
"Yeah, see you tomorrow McCormick."  
  


* * *

Craig felt his views on Kenny shifting slightly as his watched the blond walk away. He wasn't sure he hated him anymore. He wasn't sure he liked him either, but it was a change from before. Still just as problematic. He still didn't fit into one of his boxes. But he supposed that was okay as well.   
  
Also, what was with that weird question about lunchtime? Did he feel anything weird? What kinda question was that?  
  
And just as he mulled this idea, turning on the path to his house, he felt his 'niggle sense' flare. And looked up at his window.  
  
  
There was someone in his room.   
  
  


* * *


	5. You Met Me in a Daydream Once Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a logical kid, so that information just makes you think I’m creepy and have been watching you.”

* * *

##  **CHAPTER FIVE**

##  **You Met Me in a Daydream Once Before**

* * *

_Chapter Five Song: Von Hertzen Brothers- Sunday Child_

**Kenny (Age 9) Craig (Age 10)**

* * *

  
  
Craig was on alert. 

He knew his parents. His dad didn’t tend to go into his room when he wasn’t there, and his mother tended to flaunt around the room in an odd dance of picking up any clothing that needed to be clean, taking any dirty cups or plates, and dropping off clean clothes. And she and his father were easily recognisable.  
  
Tricia was too short to be seen from the window unless she stood close to the window. Plus, she was really easy to identify.  
  
This person was tall, slender. And was looking right at him.  
  
Craig felt two sensations. One was to rush up to his room and find out what the hell this person wanted. The other was to stand frozen, staring at this stranger, and wonder whether it was better to stay down here, where it was still safe in a scenario where being up there may not be safe.  
  
And Craig was many things, but he wasn’t someone who tended to walk into obvious danger, especially when there was a far more elegant solution.  
  
Except that, as he reached for his phone to dial, a voice behind him called out.  
  
“Craig. Why are you standing outside like that?”  
  
And walking up the path towards him was his mother. Which was unexpected and unwanted at this moment in time. She didn’t usually finish work this early, the bank didn’t shut until 5. And as he glanced from her to his bedroom window, he noted that he could no longer see the stranger.  
  
“Did you lose your key hun?”  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“No.”  
  
And, with a sense of trepidation, but a change in plans, he walked up to the front door of his house, pushing at it, and expecting it to be broken. He was slightly surprised, but reasoned that it wasn’t the only way to enter the house. He unlocked the door and went straight through to the kitchen, his mother following behind him. He wanted to ask why she was home so early, but didn’t. As he went, he noted how nothing was out of place in the front room, the hallway. The TV was still there, the VCR was fine. As he entered the kitchen, he went over to the garden doors. Locked.  
  
  
What the hell?  
  
  
  
“Do you have any clothes that need washing before I put a load on?” She asked him absentmindedly.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Okay well, don’t forget you’re still very much grounded mister. No games or tv either.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
And he flipped her off, and she returned the gesture.  
  
It was an odd tradition, but it was how their family showed affirmation, or affection, or simply filled the silence and space in a conversation. It ranged from neutral to positive, and very rarely was it a negative thing. Tucker to Tucker flipping off was very different to the kind of flipping off that he did outside the house. It felt comfortable, and this case was the equivalent of showing understanding between the two of them.  
  
His family was weird, but they got each other.   
  
And he needed to somehow deal with the issue in his room, without getting them involved. The mystery of how the person even got into the house became more and more suspicious as he checked the kitchen windows as subtly as he could.  
  
  
So he moved out of the kitchen, and towards the stairs, moving instead to the attic. Unfortunately, anything of use in a fight was in his room, but he was pretty sure he had an old baseball bat down here somewhere.  
  
A few moments later, armed with said baseball bat, he made his way up the stairs, pausing to listen, to see if he could hear whether his sister was in, or, less unlikely, his father. Silence greeted him. He took a moment to check the bathroom windows, his parent’s room’s window, and his sister’s room’s windows. All locked.  
  
He was narrowing it down to him being stupid and leaving his own bedroom window unlocked, but he was at his door now, and the how wasn’t as important as dealing with the what.  
  
Craig was pretty sure this wasn’t the best idea he could’ve come up with. Ideally, he’d be alone in the house when he did this, just in case it went wrong. But he’d reasoned a few things.  
  
His window wasn’t that high up, he’d snuck out of it a few times. If it was a robber, they would have had plenty of time by now to escape out of it. If it was a robber, he would have seen Craig standing there, and would have left via the garden. Craig had already confirmed that nothing in the front room or kitchen had been touched, which was slowly ruling out robbery slightly.  
  
He’d also established that the person had seen him looking up, and had looked back. They hadn’t looked panicked or shocked. He could be entirely wrong, but it was the sort of reaction where it seemed like the person was waiting rather than panicking. That could be more dangerous if the person had a gun.  
  
But he’d gone into the kitchen normally with his mom, hadn’t panicked, hadn’t mentioned anything. That might have lulled the person into a false sense of security. He’d also given them even more time to leave by stopping to search for a weapon. At this stage, if the person was still there, they were waiting in his room, for a reason. Maybe a bad one.  
  
His biggest indicator (which annoyed him because it defied all logic) was the fact that the niggling feeling...wasn’t there. It seemed calm, and for the first time since it had begun, it wasn’t poking at him to acknowledge something.  
  
Whoever this person was, wasn’t a danger to him, or his family. Which his brain had scoffed at, so as he tiptoed towards his room, bat in hand, he was careful to run through the different ways this could play out, the areas he’d check in his room that would allow him to keep his six safe.  
And he chose to enter with stealth and sneak rather than bust in. He didn’t want to panic the person inside, especially when he didn’t know where they were.  
  
And he relied on his mind, his logical thought progress. Which was why, when he stepped into his room, (opening the door only slightly, and peeking behind the door quickly), he assumed that the other ‘danger zones’ would be under his bed, in his closet, potentially on his bed (unlikely) and under his desk (very unlikely). And he systematically checked each location quickly in order, with no stranger found in sight.  
  
The problem however, arose when he’d taken a moment to lower the bat, and stand in the middle of his room. Just as he was winding down into ‘no threat’ status, he saw the closet (that he’d already checked) open and a figure quickly darting towards him, disarming him and forcing a hand over his mouth.  
  
His brain was indignant. He’d checked the closet, he’d seen nothing! And for the first time since it had begun, his niggle sense had failed him.  
  
Nothing made sense, and Craig hated that. And the stranger leaned in. No matter what this person said, whatever he promised or threatened, it wasn’t going to matter to him.  
  
“You were Agent Tucker. None of your friends were sure if it was you or not, and you’ve never confirmed it despite being asked. There’s an etching of Stripe under your desk that you started during one detention while the teacher was out of the room, and you’ve continued to work on it each time you get detention.”  
  
So, this person was a creepy stalker. Cool.  
  
“You’re a logical kid, so that information just makes you think I’m creepy and have been watching you.”  
  
Creepy weirdo was correct to think that.  
  
“...Ever since the night you returned the Lord of the Rings video, you’ve been working on a d&d character in your head that you’d play. You haven’t noted anything down yet, as you haven’t finished it. That character’s name is Feldspar, and they’re a thief.”  
  
Craig’s half formed plan of smashing his head into the intruder’s face was interrupted by that last statement. And the intruder removed his hand. Craig immediately stepped back, away from the intruder, but not towards the door, but his window.  
  
He surveyed the intruder as his mind considered options. His niggle sense was useless, throwing up nothing. Stupid broken thing.  
  
The intruder wore all black. Black jacket, with hood up, a long black scarf, black jeans, black boots. The scarf was currently pulled up over the stranger’s face, so he could only see the stranger’s eyes. Craig noted them as blue, in case he needed to give a description to the cops at some point. The stranger had said some things that...well frankly, he should have no way of knowing, but that didn’t mean Craig trusted him.  
  
“You look like the goth kid’s newest adult recruit.” Was Craig’s first interaction with the stranger.  
  
“I agree.” Came the reply.  
  
“So. How did you get into the house, why are you in my room, how the hell did you hide in my closet, and how is it you know things I haven’t told anyone?”  
  
The stranger gestured.  
  
“Take a seat.”  
  
Craig chose his bed. It was closer to the window, and he was confident that if this went pear shaped, he could escape that way.  
  
“How did you get in here?”  
  
“I used a key.”  
  
“So, you had our door keys cloned.”  
  
“Does it matter?”  
  
“I guess not. Okay, why are you in my room?”  
  
The stranger leaned against the bedroom door, something Craig was pleased about for two reasons. One, it would stop his mom randomly walking in, and two, it was far enough of a distance that he didn’t feel as threatened.  
  
“I needed to talk to you, meet you.”  
  
“..Why?”  
The stranger looked towards the closet.  
  
“You couldn’t see me because your eyes weren’t open. That’s also why I’m here.”  
  
Craig recognised that phrasing. It was the same as the phrasing used by the condor in his dreams.  
  
“And how do you know those things about me?”  
  
“Let’s just say you told me.”  
  
And Craig wanted to call bullshit on that line. Okay, some of those things you could find out by watching. Yeah, he hadn’t confirmed he was Agent Tucker, but it was pretty damn obvious. He had been a male, black haired FBI agent, called Agent TUCKER. It wasn’t hard to figure out really. And okay, the Stripe ‘masterpiece’ he’d been carving under his desk for the past however long was a little less likely to be known, but shit, any of the teacher’s could’ve seen him through the door and just not said anything.   
  
But he hadn’t told anyone about Feldspar.  
  
He’d been keeping that one to himself. A few of his habits were what people might call ‘nerdy’. He liked space, sci-fi, star trek, anime, Lord of the Rings, fantasy films. And yeah, he’d been looking up D&D, and thinking and maaaaybe he’d make a proper character on a proper character sheet. But he hadn’t done it yet.

  
  
“Look. I didn’t want to bring that last one up, but it was one of the few things I could think of that only you would know.”  
  
“So why do you know it?”  
  
“Like I said. You told me.”  
  
  
Craig didn’t believe him.  
  
  
“Have you been having weird dreams?” The stranger asked.   
  
What the hell? What kind of weird tangent was this?  
  
“I feel like you being in my room is more important than whether I’m sleeping or not.” Craig replied dryly.  
  
“The two link. I’m in your room because you haven’t been sleeping well.”  
  
“Well the sandman has certainly taken a darker theme then. You should try something a little friendlier looking if that’s what you’re going for.”   
  
To his credit, the stranger didn’t react to any of his barbs. It was an impressive level of apathy.  
  
“You’re not an idiot Craig. You're likely going to figure this out pretty quickly. Honestly, that part doesn’t matter. What does matter is getting you to open your eyes fast enough.”  
  
The blue eyes of the stranger met his gaze directly, as if trying to portray the severity of what he was saying.  
  
Craig folded his arms.  
  
“Tell me why you’re here. Stop speaking in vague terms.” He said bluntly. He was done with this bullshit.  
  
“Your eyes changed after Peru. They will keep changing, because what you did then ‘opened’ them. But only slightly. You need to open all your eyes, and you need to learn it quickly. That’s why I’m here, to help you do that. That way, you’ll be protected. You won’t forget. But it takes time, and I need you to learn fast.”  
  
Craig thought back to the condor, to the odd, macabre dream. Everyone was so insistent about him opening his damn eyes, but they wouldn’t explain what they meant.  
  
The stranger sighed, and took steps forward. Craig flinched, readying himself if he needed to escape. The stranger simply sat on the chair by his desk, and took his pointer finger, and began to point at various parts of the body, naming them as he did so.  
  
“Ñawis. Eyes. You have them. Between your hips, your stomach, your chest, your throat, your two physical eyes, and your forehead. You temporarily activated two of them in Peru, and they haven’t fully closed. That’s what your ‘niggle sense’ is.”  
  
“How do you know about that?” Craig fired back, more perturbed that this person knew even his weird ‘nicknames’ for things. Was this person a hypnotist or something? Did he hypnotise people, get them to tell them their hidden secrets, and then recite them back to sound all ‘mystical’? Also, he was pretty sure the stranger had mentioned seven eyes, and last time Craig checked, he had two. This was slowly sneaking into the less credible realm of 'spiritual', and he didn't like it.  
  
“I know things about you because you told me.”  
  
“I did not.”  
  
“You did. Trust me. And I’m here to help.”  
  
“Help with what? This weird ‘eye’ thing?”  
  
“Yes. And your dreams. And to help you remember.”  
  
“...Remember what?”  
  
“The thing you don’t want to forget when you wake up tomorrow morning. But you’ll forget parts of it. The condor is an asshole, but it’s right. You’ll keep forgetting unless you unlock those eyes.”  
“Everyone keeps talking about these mystical ‘eyes’, but no one is telling me how I’m supposed to ‘open’ them.”  
  
“I’ll teach you. You’re already working towards it, but you’re slow. You’re questioning everything logically, and that’s setting you back. I can help with that.”  
  
Craig looked at this person for a moment, amber eyes meeting blue.  
  
“..You still haven’t told me who you are yet, and you expect me to trust you to teach me?”  
  
“You’ve met me before. You just don’t recognise me. When you’ve opened your eyes, you’ll know who I am.” Was all the stranger said, before standing and moving towards the window.  
  
Craig didn’t want the stranger to go just yet. He still had a lot of questions, ones he hadn’t quite formulated yet, but ones he would have nonetheless.  
  
“You’re leaving?”  
  
“I’ll be back. Tonight, listen to any advice the Condor gives you. It’s trying to help.”  
“What the fuck am I supposed to call you?”  
  
“Guardian Angel.”  
  
Craig should have guessed, seeing the stupid silver lines that were wings on the back of the jacket. Honestly, who chose to dress like that?

And these were the thoughts that remained with him as the stranger-as 'Guardian Angel' disappeared from his view, leaving Craig alone in his room.  
  
“...What a stupid name.” Craig muttered, turning on his pc, already focusing on what he wanted to do next. He wanted to look up some things. Ñawis, the name Guardian Angel, con-people hypnotist magicians with stupid names and ridiculous clothing choices that could make themselves invisible in closets.  
  
  
  
  
He really missed his boring life.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Kenny was in bed, enjoying the rare peace of the evening. He’d spent some of his evening letting Karen ‘practice’ her make-up skills. The result from the five year old had been heavy eyeshadow, far too much blusher, and very pink lipstick. Kenny had gushed how ‘pretty’ he looked and Karen had been beaming at the praise. And after Karen had gone to sleep, Kenny had (after removing the makeup from his face) lay in bed, flipping through a playboy magazine he’d ‘borrowed’ from his dad. It was an older one, so Stuart wouldn’t miss it.  
  
Unfortunately, he’d borrowed the one he’d already perused many times before, so after a few minutes, he gave up on it.  
  
He was clearly stalling. He still needed to do homework (which he’d likely do tomorrow before class) and he wanted to read a little more of the Necronomicon. Instead, he was lying in bed, thinking about the events of today. He was supposed to have died today. There was no real reason to fight it. When ‘death day’ came, the best he could hope for was a quick death.  
  
Except, he hadn’t died.  
  
All it had taken was the smallest motions, a slight tug stopping him in his tracks, and he’d been saved. Just like that. By Craig Tucker.  
  
Craig Tucker had saved his life.  
  
He still couldn’t quite believe it. All the deaths, all the times he’d been dying and his friends had done nothing but shout how someone was a bastard for killing him. While he lay there still alive, sometimes bleeding out, and no one had done anything. Sometimes, it was obvious there was no helping him. But...it would’ve been cool if someone had tried, or held his hand, or did..something.  
  
And Craig had gone a step beyond anything he could’ve hoped for. Somehow, despite it being impossible (because once death was coming from him, it was set in stone) Craig had saved him. And if someone had told him that the guy who tried to ignore his group and avoided anything that could drag him into trouble was going to save his life, Kenny would’ve laughed loudly.  
And that idea, that thought, had been enough to keep him distracted for hours after he’d said goodbye to the stoic boy.  
Would he remember everything tomorrow? Kenny didn’t exactly want to get his hopes up, and he was torn on the idea.  
Having an ally, someone who understood would be something he never thought he’d have. But it would be easier for Craig if he didn’t remember. Cthulhu couldn’t corrupt the mind of someone who had forgotten after all, and Craig ran the risk of Cthulhu noticing him.  
  
A sudden tap on his window dragged him from his secular thoughts, and he sat up. A familiar and welcome (hooded) face was at the window, and Kenny leaned up from where he sat to flick the lock on the window to unlocked, allowing Guardian Angel to enter. 

He remembered when he'd first met Guardian Angel, that he'd been very wary of him. He'd been younger, and it had taken a long time for Angel to gain his trust. Despite the fact that Angel had saved his life.  
  
Huh, he remembered that one. Vividly. Angel didn’t tend to save him from his deaths, no matter how gruesome. But that one time, that first time, he had. And of all the deaths he’d faced, Kenny was so incredibly thankful he’d stopped that one in its tracks. Mostly because of what would have happened before death more than the death itself.  
  
He blinked himself out of his thoughts as Angel sat at the very end of his bed. He’d always kept a respectful distance from Kenny when they talked. He’d shown Kenny he could be trusted. He’d not stepped in to prevent any deaths after that first one, but he’d been someone to talk to, to confide in, someone he could tell everything to.  
  
Except recently, it had also come with..warnings. Warnings that Kenny needed to listen to. The last one being ‘Mysterion will not be enough’.  
  
He wanted to know more about that last one. Okay, he was only nine years old, he got that. He wasn’t a REAL superhero. He tried though, he really did. He wanted to do good, wanted to protect this...shitty town of theirs. Even if it was shitty, it was THEIRS. And he wanted to turn his...curse into something useful. If he couldn’t die, then why couldn’t he put that to use somehow?  
  
  
Why wasn’t he enough?  
  
  
  
“Why aren’t I enough?” He blurted out to Guardian Angel, before realising that he hadn’t meant to ask that out loud.  
  
Guardian Angel looked taken aback, or at least he did from the limited expressions Kenny could read from his eyes.  
  
“Kenny, what?”  
  
“I know I’m not like you. I can’t protect people in the same way. I know telling the police about graffiti isn’t..exactly helping against murderers, thieves and stuff, but I..wanna get better at this. I want Mysterion to be enough eventually. How do I do that?”  
  
Guardian Angel was silent for a moment, absorbing what he had just said. And when he spoke, it was in a soft tone.  
  
“Kenny...when I said Mysterion would not be enough, I wasn’t talking about you not being enough.”  
  
“But I AM Mysterion. If Mysterion isn’t enough, what does that say?”  
  
“I’m sorry, I should have clarified earlier. What I meant to say was ‘Mysterion your persona, won’t be enough’.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Guardian Angel sighed.  
  
“It’s...complicated. Very complicated. But, if I told you that people could use your real identity against you, would that make sense?”  
  
“So, it’s because people know I’m Mysterion? Because it’s only my friends. Everyone else thinks Kyle is Mysterion.”  
  
“You need a persona that no one will know. You need to keep who you really are safe. And you need to remember, yes, you’re only nine. But that doesn’t ever mean you’re not enough. You’re always enough, and don’t let anyone, including me, make you think otherwise. You will get older, and you will get stronger, more capable. You’re helping in the best way you can for now.”  
  
“...I promise, one day, I’ll be someone you can rely on, just like I rely on you now.” Kenny murmured.  
  
Guardian Angel nodded as he stood, moving towards the window once more.  
  
“I know you will Kenny. And I promise you won’t be alone this time.” And just before Guardian Angel left, he looked back, and Kenny caught how vividly blue his eyes were.  
  
“Keep Mysterion, but work on a new persona in secret. Something big is coming, and you need to be ready.”  
  
And he was gone. And Kenny sat at the window for a moment, mulling over what he’d just heard. And as he shifted his leg, which had gone numb, he heard a rustling noise.  
Looking over, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the notes on his bed, along with a written note.  
  
_  
  
  
Get food. Heroes need to stay strong. Also, buy Karen those cookies she likes. _  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  
  
  
  



	6. I’ll be Watching over You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are not alone. No matter where you go, no matter what you do, I will always be here! Do you understand?”
> 
> “I'll try, Guardian Angel.”

* * *

## 

##  **CHAPTER SIX**

##  **I’ll be Watching over You**

* * *

_Chapter Six Song: Bosson - Guardian Angel_ _  
__Chapter Six Dream Sequence Song: TPR - Words Drowned By Fireworks_

**Kenny (Age 9) Craig (Age 10)  
  
  
**

* * *

  
**  
****He was surprised when he opened his eyes and there was a condor once again pecking at his head. The reason for his surprise was how...unsurprised he was at this scene. He simply watched with a morbid fascination.**  
  
 **The condor, having noticed that he was watching, stopped its pecking motion and looked at him with beady blue eyes.** **  
****  
****“You have returned.”** **  
****  
****“It’s not like I had a choice. I think I have to be here.”** **  
****  
****The condor hopped off him as he sat up, moving onto his legs instead. Craig moved his fingers up to his head, and felt the crack in his head.** **  
****  
****So, he was becoming desensitised to being eaten. Cool. So that was a thing. Moving on.** **  
****  
****The condor hopped up his leg a little further as he looked around. He was in the same graveyard. The differences were the graves. Only one of the many graves was now dug up.** **  
****  
****“The thoughts are being filled and forgotten. You are no longer digging for the truth, and it is being forgotten.”** **  
****  
****“I don’t want to forget.”** **  
****  
****“And I do not wish for you to die. None of us do.”** **  
****  
****Craig looked around.** **  
****  
****“Us?”** **  
****  
****The condor tilted its head.** **  
****  
****“We watch over you, we guide you. We have different things to teach you.”** **  
****  
****Craig craned his eyes, but could see only the bleakness of the graveyard, with himself and the condor as the only living beings. The condor followed his gaze as he looked around.** **  
****  
****“It is only the two of us here for the moment. We have different roles in your life. I am here to teach you specific things.”** **  
****  
****“Do you have a name?”** **  
****  
****The condor looked at him almost thoughtfully, before pecking at his kneecap.** **  
****  
****“Many. But for ease, you may call me the first stage. I am Yana.”** **  
****  
****Craig ignored the condor, or Yana’s task of slowly eating his body, and took on an air of almost...tranquility as he surveyed the graveyard. It was oddly, far more peaceful this time around. And for a moment, there was no sound but the peck, peck pecking of his...condor...his guide?** **  
****  
****“Why do we always come here?” He asked vaguely.** **  
****  
****“That is up to you. This is a construct of your focus.”** **  
****  
****“My focus is a graveyard?”** **  
****  
****“Your focus is on remembering, on digging up deaths that would usually be forgotten.”** **  
****  
****“But I never found anything when I dug.”** **  
****  
****“Because you were already at a stage where you remembered.”** **  
****  
****Craig mulled over these words.** **  
****  
****“I have advised you to forget for now. You, despite this, have fought to remember. I have compromised with you. I have allowed you that one grave.” And Yana looked over to the grave that was empty and open.** **  
****  
****“It is a way for the ways of madness to find you, but...it is...small enough that if you do not dig any further until you have learned to shield yourself, if the need arises, it can be buried quickly if malevolence finds you. Plus, you have been working on opening your eyes, which is a good thing. If you are so adamant that you need to remember this one thing, I will not take it from you. Be warned, it is the tiniest thing. You will not know the how, the when, the what. You will only know the who, as that is what you seem to find most important. You will know that it happens, and who it happens to. The other details will be lost.”** **  
****  
****Yana moved up to his chest one more, tapping on his chest.** **  
****  
****“You said I was working on ‘opening my eyes’. What did you mean?”** **  
****  
****Yana cocked its head.** **  
****  
****“You...call it something...niggle...?”** **  
****  
****“Niggle-sense?”** **  
****  
****“This...what you call...niggle..sense...it is your eyes.”** **  
****  
****“My..Nah..wiis?”** **  
****  
****“** **Ñawis”** **  
****  
****“I was...looking up about them. They’re like..chakras, right?”** **  
****  
****Yana pecked harshly.** **  
****  
****“They are not. Some principles align, but the execution is different.”** **  
****  
****“But there were things online that compared-”** **  
****  
****“No. The modern world has no true concept of the way things were back when they were conceived. If you truly wish to learn, learn from your guides, and learn from yourself. That is all you need.”** **  
****  
****“So...you’re going to teach me?”** **  
****  
****“I already have. Many things.”** **  
****  
****Craig resisted rolling his eyes.** **  
****  
****“Do you have anyone a little more...direct?”** **  
****  
****Yana hissed, spreading its wings widely.** **  
****  
****“Such disrespect. You are but a chick, and my teachings-”** **  
****  
****“-Are useful, but I don’t understand them.” Craig mixed pacification with bluntness.** **  
****  
****“...There are other guides you could speak to. We are all here to help you on your way. If you need...bluntness, then perhaps...Puka. Very well. It is not the correct order of things, but if you feel I am not helping you at this moment in time, then I shall continue my work to protect you, and leave you in the paws of Puka.”** **  
****“Puka?”** **  
****The condor inclined its head.** **  
****“It will not be so easy to find Puka. I am of the Hanaq Pacha. Puka is of the Kay Pacha”** **  
****  
****“The who and the what now?”** **  
****  
****The condor hopped off of his body, and began to drag its beak along the ground. Three lines.** **  
****  
****“The top line is Hanaq Pacha, or the ‘upper world’. This is where we are now. It is a spiritual realm, and it was easy for you to reach out for me. However, the ‘middle world’, or Kay Pacha, is where mortals reside, and where Puka recides.”** **  
****  
****“So, I can’t just....talk to this..Puka, here?”** **  
****  
****“The realm of dreams is not one Puka typically frequents. You will need to seek out Puka physically in your realm and prove you are ready for Puka’s teachings before Puka will see you elsewhere. And Puka may not recognise you in the physical realm, so be cautious. I would not recommend going in unprepared.”** **  
****  
****And Yana hopped back onto Craig’s shoulder.** **  
****  
****“Lie back.”** **  
****  
****Craig did so, and Yana began a gentle poke on the crack in his head.** **  
****  
****“Don’t forget Craig, you can seek out Puka, but I am here. If you need me, I will be protecting you, and I will always be watching over you. Remember who you are.”** **  
****  
****And Craig felt the tugging sensation at his head, the last words Yana spoke becoming ones that he would not remember as he woke.**

**“You are the Cauac Chaska.”  
  
** **  
****  
******

* * *

**  
  
  
****  
****“** You think you're man enough to fight me, you little shit?!”

“Yes, 'cause you're a drunk piece of shit, Dad!”

“You're both drunk pieces of shit! Both of you sit the fuck down!”

“Shut up!”  
  
  
  
Kenny was trying to ignore what was a regular occurrence of his brother and his dad fighting, and his mom thinking she was helping by fighting them both. And he was doing that by watching tv. He would occasionally look over at his mother, who held Karen in her arms as she tried to break up the fight. Karen was bawling her eyes out at the fighting, but was unharmed.  
  
Usually, it was fine as the fights were either usually between Kevin and their dad, or their mom and their dad. But he wanted to ensure that Karen wasn’t hurt from this. His mom was doing fine keeping Karen away from the fight, and he’d step in if something happened. Sighing, he leaned on his hand, and focused on the tv, trying to drown out the commotion.  
  
 _“They're white trash. And when you give them a little Pabst Blue Ribbon, they can't help getting arrested.”_ _  
_ _  
_“Ah!”  
  
Kenny looked over at Stuart clutching his forehead, a block on the floor next to him.  
  
 _“Tonight, on an all-new... White Trash... In Trouble! Pabst Blue Ribbon and white trash. It's a deadly combination that can lead to prison time and children being taken away from their home. This white trash home in Colorado seems innocent enough.”_  
  


Kenny sat up suddenly as the screen was filled with a very familiar image.  
  
“Wait a minute….” he murmured, suddenly leaning in slightly.  
  
That looked like…  
  
“What the fuck?” His eyes suddenly glanced from the tv to the front door. He stood up quickly. He needed to check this out, and now. He looked away as his dad slapped his mom.  
Fuck. This was not the time for this.  
He carefully peeked out of the window. Sirens, lights, cops and cameras.  
  
  
Oh  
  
  
  
Shit.  
  
  


 _“But the children in this home live in a world of neglect. There's no heating, no groceries, and if you look closely in the backyard, you can even make out what appears to be a meth lab.”_  
  
He hurried back into the front room, just as Kevin was jumping on their dad’s back. He began to choke him.  
  
  
“Mom, the cops are here! Mom, Dad, the cops are here!”  
  
He was ignored, and a loud bang at the door began, continued. And then the front door was smashed open, cops and crowds swarming into their front room.   
  
“Down on the ground! Move it! Let's go! Move move! Get down, now!” The cops shouted.  
  
Kenny counted the officers as his parents complied, dropping to the floor and putting their hands behind their backs. Ten of them. He for a moment considered....no. He couldn’t do that.  
  
He instead let the cops usher himself, his siblings and his parents outside. The area was surrounded by people. The neighbours were all outside gathering at the commotion.  
  
  
  
“No! Mah babies! Don't take my babies!”

  
“You're hurting my arm!”

  
“My babies!”

“You're hurting me!”

“You have the right to remain silent. Now please look at the camera and say "I'm white trash and I'm in trouble."

“I'm white trash and I'm in trouble.”

“Alright, good. Now get in the car!”  
  
“Oh wow, poor people being arrested. What a rare occurrence!”  
  
Kenny closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in humiliation at the familiar voice.  
  
  
Cartman was here.  
  
His family was falling apart, whilst it was recorded on live tv for entertainment, and CARTMAN was here, recording it.  
  
  
  
“Hi, Kinny! Kinny, wave!”  
  
  
Kenny ignored the calls from Cartman as he was led to the police car by an officer. He stuck close to Karen, making sure that she knew he was close. That he was here. His idiot of a brother was behind him, still drunk, barely sure of what was even going on.  
  
“That's Kinny, about to be sent to a foster home. Pretty funny.”  
  
  
  
Kenny ignored the voice, focusing on Karen. Whatever happened, he had to make sure she was safe, that he was with her. 

“Just have a seat in there, kids.” the officer directed them into the back of a police car. 

  
“Just have a seat in there, kids.” Kevin drunkenly mocked as the cop closed the car door. **  
****  
****“** You’re an asshole Kevin. Stop it.” Kenny hissed to him, not wanting Karen to hear.  
  
“Shut the fuck up Kenny, don’t tell me what to do.”  
  
And Kenny wanted to retort, but knew that if he started a fight with Kevin, it would make Karen cry. So he bit his tongue, and stayed silent as the car pulled away from their house. Karen shivered slightly, and he wrapped an arm around her.  
  
“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay.”  
  
“I want mommy…” she sniffled.  
  
“I know Kare, I know. Don’t worry, I’m here.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Craig was walking past the lockers to class when he heard the end of the conversation  
  
“Shhh shh shh, here he comes, here he comes.”  
  
“Heya, Craig, your uh... your family get you that jacket at Walmart or Kmart?” Cartman asked.  
  
  
Craig was bemused more than pissed off.  
  


“What are you talking about?” he asked. 

“Nothing dude, it's cool, it's cool. I mean, we would tell your parents to shop at nicer places, but... your mom is so poor she can't even pay attention.”  
  
And Cartman sniggered. Craig just...looked at him. And Cartman rolled his eyes.  
  
“You’re supposed to like, react.”  
  
“To what exactly?”  
  
“Well, now that Kenny’s gone, you-oh hey, Butters! BUTTERS!”  
  
“Well hey Eric!”  
  
“I need you to do something for me.” And before Craig could even react to Cartman’s statement, Butters was being dragged away by Cartman, towards the computer lab. Craig glanced at Kyle and Stan. Oh, he wanted to just walk past, and a week ago, despite what he’d just heard, he probably would have.  
  
But it was a week later, and things had changed. He needed to know.  
  
“...What happened to Kenny?”  
  
Stan raised an eyebrow, as if not actually expecting Craig to stop and talk to them. It was Kyle who replied.  
  
“Dude...Last night, Kenny’s parents were arrested for having a meth lab. Him and his brother and sister were taken into custody of Child Protective Services.”  
  
“And I don't think Kenny's coming back. My dad said those Child Protective Services people are pretty serious.” Stan chipped in.  
  


“We can't let Kenny be sent away forever. There's gotta be something we can do.” Kyle urged them, looking between Stan and Craig.  
  
And Craig felt something he didn’t expect to feel. He felt...worried for Kenny. They’d sorta, kinda started making steps towards maybe being friends, and now this had happened...well, he felt like Kyle was right. This wasn’t something they could leave alone.   
  
  


* * *

Kenny felt like he was losing control of his life. But that didn’t matter right now. Only one thing did.  
  
He had someone who needed help more than he did right now.  
  
That was his priority.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It was quiet in the room, and the night was clear. A small girl lies there, crying. The others in the room slept peacefully, not hearing the pitiful, heartbroken sobs. She barely notices anything, until a shadow falls over her face, causing her to stop her crying in shock and look wildly at the window, fearful for a moment. She relaxes when she recognises the figure.  


“Oh, it's you.” She offers a small smile to the cloaked figure as she shifts so that she’s sitting on her knees.  
  
“I was wondering when you'd appear. You always come when I'm sad.”  
  


“You are going to be okay, Karen! You have to keep believing that!” The voice was deep and self assured.

“W-why did my mommy and daddy go to jail?”  
  
  
The figure was silent for a moment.  
  
  
“...Sometimes, people do stupid things. Sometimes they don't realise what should have come first. Until it's too late.”  
  


“...But I'm all alone now.” Karen said sadly.  
  


“You are **not** alone. No matter where you go, no matter what you do, I will **always** be here! Do you understand?”

  
Karen nodded, putting her hands together as if in prayer, smiling once again.  
  
  
“I'll try, Guardian Angel.”  
  
  
The figure held up a single finger.  
  


“Don't try, Karen. Do.”  
  
“What in the name of nobody knows are you doing, Karen?!”  
  
And Karen glanced back at the door to see her foster parent standing there. She quickly glances back at the window, but her Guardian Angel is gone.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Kenny listened as the window was closed and locked, before hoisting himself up onto the higher roof tier before settling there. He sat on the roof of the house, listening to the sounds of cows mooing for a moment. He wanted to go for a walk, but he couldn’t. This would have to do. He needed to stay safe.  
  
He sighed, pulling his hood down, and removing his mask. Mysterion was done for the night. He had done his task, and there was no longer any need to be him.  
  
  
It felt so odd to hear Karen call him Guardian Angel.  
  
  
He wasn't worthy of that title. He'd let this happen somehow.  
  
Everything was so fucked up right now. Usually, the fuckedupness occurred in South Park, and it wasn’t much of an issue, but right now, where they were? This was a big problem. His family was torn apart, Karen felt sad and alone, and eventually, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, he _would_ die eventually. It was just a matter of time.  
  
And when he died, he wasn’t sure what would happen. He could wake up back in South Park. And that was not where he wanted to be right now. He didn’t want to be separated from Karen.  
  
He tended to not pray to god. Having met god, Satan, angels, demons and death itself, he wasn’t under any illusion that they were watching out for him. But he wanted to pray to someone that he wasn’t killed while he was here.  
  
His curse had always been inconsistent in some ways, but consistent in one way that had never changed.  
  
He always woke up in his bed in South Park, in his orange parka. That never changed. Ever.  
  
And he was on borrowed time.  
  
Eventually, he would be torn from his sister, with no way of getting back.  
  
  


* * *

  
Craig couldn’t sleep.  
  
  
Again.  
  
  
And he wanted to blame it on the weird going ons. He really did. He wanted to blame his messed up dreams. He wanted to blame the person dreaming about him and keeping him awake. He wanted to blame his pillow, his duvet.  
  
But he knew what it was. And he didn’t want to acknowledge it.  
  
Nope.  
  
He definitely was not still awake because he was worried. He had nothing to be worried about.  
  
He sat up abruptly.  
  
This was Kenny’s fault. The random kid he never really befriended...but maaaybe had hung out with a few times. This was HIS fault he couldn’t sleep.  
  
And why? Because his family couldn’t look after their children?  
  
Kenny would be fine.  
  
  
Wouldn’t he?  
  
  
Greeley wasn’t that bad a place.  
  
And it didn’t bother him if Kenny didn’t come back  
  
 _Lie. Lie lie lie lie lie lie LIE._ _  
__  
_Craig sigh growled. This niggle sense of his was starting to piss him off. He didn’t appreciate having an inbuilt lie detector being used against himself.  
  
And what was he even supposed to do? What could he do? Greeley was 150 miles away. So why was he being forced to worry??  
  
Why was he able to do useless things, like dream of birds eating him, or have a weird niggle sense thing, but he couldn’t do ANYTHING to help?  
  
“Okay, enough. I need to sleep.” And he smushed his face into his pillow. And lay there in silence. And nothing happened.  
  
“Look, stupid weird Peruvian power thing. If you’re going to keep me awake, then at least let me DO something.” He mumbled into his pillow.  
  
His niggle sense grew stronger for a moment, and then puttered out.  
  
Craig forced himself to calm. Okay, so most of the...weird stuff he’d done had been during sleep, or moments where he hadn’t been paying attention. When he hadn’t been thinking-  
  
  
  
Oh  
  
  
 _“You’re a logical kid.”  
  
_  
  
That was the problem wasn’t it? He was trying to outthink this problem.  
  
So, he stilled. And tried to not think. Tried to just lie there.  
  
Thinking of nothing was hard.  
  
  
Okay, he could do this. He focused on his breathing, choosing that to concentrate on.  
  
  
In. Out  
  
  
The niggle sense prickled at him.  
  
  
In. Out. Don’t think.  
  
  
 _I need a way to help.  
_ _  
__  
_In. Out  
  
  
 _For some reason, I’m worried.  
_ _  
__  
_In. Out  
  
  
 _I can’t get there. I need a way to communicate.  
_ _  
__  
_In...Out…  
  
  
 _I don’t care what…  
_ _  
__  
_In…  
  
  


* * *

  
  
 **Kenny blinked.** **  
****  
****Where the hell was he?** **  
****  
****Was this…someone’s room? Was he sitting on someone’s bed?** **  
****  
****He was looking up at a ceiling covered in those glow in the dark stars. Weird. He looked up at them for a minute. He could’ve sworn he’d been in bed...** **  
****  
****“What are you doing here?”** **  
****  
****Kenny looked over at the voice. It was a familiar voice.** **  
****  
****“Craig?”** **  
****  
****“You’re in Greeley. How did you get here?”** **  
****  
****“Yeah...I was...And I have no idea dude. Last thing I remember, I was in bed.”** **  
****  
****“Yeah, me too...sorta.”** **  
****  
****Kenny looked over. Craig stood by his window, looking out.** **  
****  
****“Maybe I’m dreaming, and you’re not real. Must be all that Dr.Pepper these weird foster parents keep giving us. Guess that’s why I got the bed though.” and Kenny lay back on said bed to look up at the stars stuck on the ceiling.** **  
****  
****“But this is my room. Why would you be dreaming of my room?”** **  
****  
****“This is your room? Cool. Didn’t realise you were into space and stuff. Well, maybe this is your dream then. Maybe I’m the one that’s not real.”** **  
****  
****“But...that doesn’t seem right. There’s too many details I wouldn’t know. Like the Dr Pepper thing.”** **  
****  
****“Dude, dreams always make sense until you wake up, and then you think ‘what the fuck’. Just go with it.”** **  
****  
****“Fine.”** **  
****  
****And they sat in silence for a moment. And then Kenny yawned.** **  
****  
****“You have pretty boring dreams dude. Why are you even dreaming about me anyway?”** **  
****  
****“Stan and Kyle told me about what happened. Are you gone for good now?”** **  
****  
****“Would you miss me if I was?” Kenny grinned up at the ceiling.** **  
****  
****“I barely even know you.”** **  
****  
****“True. You don’t.”** **  
****  
****“...Yeah.”** **  
****  
****“Yeah?”** **  
****  
****“If this is a dream, I guess I don’t mind saying it. We were sorta hanging out, I got used to it. And then you were gone. I even remembered.”** **  
****  
****“Remembered?”** **  
****  
****“That you die, and come back.”** **  
****  
****Kenny took in a quick breath.** **  
****  
****“You still remember?”** **  
****  
****“...Not everything. I don’t...remember how you died. I know you did though.”** **  
****  
****Kenny was quiet for a moment.** **  
****  
****“...I hate it here.”** **  
****  
****Craig looked over at the statement.** **  
****  
****“Not in here. This dream of yours. I mean, Greeley. The foster home. I hate it. I worry for Karen, she’s sad. I worry we won’t ever come back, that I won’t see everyone. I...worry that I’ll die here, and be reborn in South Park, and won’t be able to get back to Karen. I don’t know what to do.”** **  
****  
****“....How can I help?”** **  
****  
****Kenny looked over at Craig again, who was still facing the window.** **  
****  
****“You...want to help? Why?”** **  
****  
****Craig shrugged.** **  
****  
****“You’re part of South Park. I guess...you add to the crazy?”** **  
****  
****Kenny sat up, crossing his legs** **  
****  
****“I thought you liked boring.”** **  
****  
****“....I do. But not this kind of boring.”** **  
****  
****Kenny laughed.** **  
****  
****“Okay Tucker. Just for you, I’m gonna try and find a way to get back there.”** **  
****  
****“Don’t do it for me, do it for your family. For yourself. Who cares if I don’t like how things are?”**

**Kenny hopped off the bed, making his way over to the window. He stood next to Craig, looking out onto the street.** **  
****  
****“I care. We’re friends.”** **  
****  
****“We’re not friends.”** **  
****  
****Kenny nudged Craig with his shoulder.** **  
****  
****“Yeah we are. C’mon, you know it’s true.”** **  
****  
****“No I don’t.” And he flipped Kenny off, causing him to laugh.** **  
****  
****“If you’re not my friend, how come you’re dreaming about me?”** **  
****  
****“...Shut up McCormick.”** **  
****  
****“...I’m translating that as ‘Yes Kenny, we are friends’”** **  
****  
****“Whatever. Just hurry up and get your damn family back here so I can get some sleep.”** **  
****  
****“I’m working on it...Somehow. Not really. Ugh, I have no idea.”** **  
****  
****“You’ll figure something out. Tough times suck, but they always pass.”** **  
****  
****“Thanks dude. This has helped. Even though I’m probably not real and this is all in your mind, it’s helped?”** **  
****  
****“It’s probably less embarrassing if you aren’t real.”** **  
****  
****“Yeah, wouldn’t want the real me to think you actually care, right?”** **  
****  
****“Exactly.”** **  
****  
****“Hey Tucker?”** **  
****  
****“Yeah?”** **  
****  
****“Seriously though, thanks.”** **  
****  
****“...It’s fine.”  
** **  
****  
******

* * *

**  
****  
**With 150 miles between them, two boys wake up as morning hits. Both remember the dream, their conversation.  
  
Both are sure that it was their dream, that the other was a figment of their imagination. But Kenny wakes up with a sense of hope and purpose, and Craig feels as if things are going to be...okay somehow.  
  
His niggle sense was annoying, but it didn’t lie.  
  
 ****

* * *

 **  
** **  
** **  
****  
****  
**  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. I Ask For Nothing, I Can Get By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did he do stuff like this at your old school?” 
> 
> “Uh huh.”

* * *

## 

##  **CHAPTER SEVEN**

## I Ask For Nothing, I Can Get By

* * *

_Chapter Seven Song: Peter Hollens - God Help The Outcasts_ _  
  
_

**Kenny (Age 9) Craig (Age 10)**

* * *

All things considered, it could be worse.

It could definitely be a lot better, but Kenny would take the bright side of this situation.

Currently, all the foster children, including himself, were mopping, dusting, sweeping, or scrubbing the dining room area. 

Kenny was focused on scrubbing the floor. Karen was nearby, sweeping up with a broom. 

The menial task gave him time to think. And it was mostly about his dream last night.

He'd dreamed of Craig, of all people. Not that he hated Craig. He’d been honest when he’d said they were friends now. He was just...surprised he hadn't dreamed of someone he was closer to. Why did his subconscious think that Craig Tucker of all people would be able to help him, or would even want to for that matter.  
  
Okay yeah, Craig had saved his life, but that was easily explainable. Craig had just seen what was going to happen because Kenny was facing the wrong way when walking, and he had pulled him back in a very natural, obvious manner. No biggie.  
  
The fact that it was the first time anyone, including his close friends, had even done that, was irrelevant and coincidental. Not that he wasn’t thankful of course.  
  
He decided to chalk it up to his subconscious being weird and random. It had done its job anyway, Kenny was already figuring out ways to get him and his siblings back to South Park.

Their foster father, (or Mr. Weatherhead), walked by just then, and sighed in obvious irritation.

"Come on now! This is not the way we've told you to tidy up! Remember? Cleanliness is next to godliness, so make it kind of clean but not too much! Amanda! More ambiguous on the dusting!"

Whatever Mr Weatherhead was going to add was suddenly interrupted by a knocking at the door.

"Kenneth, answer the door!"

Kenny, resisting the urge to backchat his 'foster father' instead, stood up, walked to the front door and opened it.

"What the? Dude, this is like poorer than my old house!"  
  


The familiar tone hit him just as recognition of who stood there at the door did. And it felt like a ton of bricks,

Eric fucking Cartman stood there, with a suitcase, and a look of disdain.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Kenny asked, surprised and irritated and suspicious all in one.

Mrs. Weatherhead approached the two of them at the door.

"Hello Eric, your room is upstairs on the left. Are you hungry?"

Cartman squinted at the woman. Kenny was honestly confused. Why was Cartman here? He HAD a home, a family (of sorts). He didn’t need to be here. 

"You're my new mom?" Cartman finally asked.

"You can call me Mom if you like."  
  
New mom? What had happened to Cartman’s mom? Kenny abandoned his cleaning duties to follow Cartman and Mr Weatherhead upstairs. 

  
  


“This is where you'll sleep with your foster brothers. You will be clean, polite, and most importantly, you WILL follow the agnostic code: We cannot know with certainty if God or Christ exists. They COULD. Then again there COULD be a giant reptilian bird in charge of everything. Can we be CERTAIN there isn't? NO, so it's pointless to talk about. Now say it with me.  
  
Kenny scoffed. Giant reptilian bird. He hadn’t seen one of those in hell. These people were kinda weird. And their code was weird too. God did exist. Satan existed. In fact, he’d met most religious leaders, and they existed. They were even super best friends in some cases.  
  


“Goddamn, I've gotta sleep in a room with six other people?! How poor are we?!”

“HEY! We do not take the Lord's name in vain in this house, just in case there is one! Do you understand, or do you need the punishment room?!”

“Oh heell naw!” And Cartman leaned out into the hall, not acknowledging Kenny.  
  
  
“Mom! Dad's being mean to me! Mem! MEEM!”  
  


And their ‘foster mother’, Mrs. Weatherhead walked into the room, looking displeased. 

  
“My name. Is not. Meom!”  
  


* * *

  
  
“Kinny! Kiiiiinnny! KINNY! WAKE THE FUCK UP!”  
  
Kenny felt that if parallel universes existed, and if there were several iterations of him out there somewhere, that no matter what universe he was in, whichever iteration he was, Cartman would somehow, somewhere, be waking him up in the most annoying way, and that much like his curse, he’d never escape it.  
  
It was an odd feeling, and it only served to make him groan into his pillow. Weird ass barely awake thoughts.  
  
“Shut the hell up new kid!” One of the boys called from where he was still in bed.  
  
“Ay! Don’t call me new kid! Kinny, wake up!”  
  
“I’m up, I’m up, just stop shouting.”  
  
“There’s something very important we need to talk about before skeewl.”  
  
Kenny flopped his head back onto the pillow, wishing that his parka could consume him whole so he didn’t have to deal with any of this.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Greeley Elementary. It was...well, it wasn’t South Park Elementary. It wasn’t..bad. It was a little plainer, a little more..subdued. And Kenny held Karen’s hand as they and Cartman walked down the hallway.

“Oh God, I'm so nervous. These kids all seem kind of mean.” Cartman whined at his side. Kenny ignored him, turning instead to Karen. 

“I'll see you at recess, right?” Karen asked

“I'll be there, Karen.” he promised, as she walked into her class. 

“You've already been here awhile, Kinny, so you have to introduce me to your friends, okay? And make sure they know I'm kewl. You've gotta have my back, Kinny!”  
  
Did he? Did he have to have the back of the guy who sold all his friends out to Cthulhu, and didn’t even have the decency to remember that he did?  
  
...Yeah, he did. Dammit. He wasn’t going to let Cartman become the outsider. So he looked over towards the group he’d dubbed as his ‘newer friends’. They were a cool bunch, and they’d been pretty friendly considering he himself hadn’t been there too long. The main problem would be...Cartman. He, Stan and Kyle definitely put up with a lot of shit from Cartman that most people wouldn’t. Perks of growing up with one another.  
  
And one of his friends, Brent, looked over as he saw them approaching.  
  


“Oh hey, Kenny. Who's this?”

  
“This is Eric Cartman.”  
  
“Does he live with you at the foster home?”

  
Before Kenny could reply, or even try to paint Cartman as ‘not an asshole’, Cartman had already stepped forward, past him.

  
“Okay, alright, so listen: I know our family is poor, okay?! But before we lived there, Kinny was actually poorer than me! So technically, he's the poorest kid at this skeewl!”  
  
Well, at least Cartman was predictable….  
  


“What are you talking about? The poor kid in this school is Jacob Hallery.” And Brent pointed towards the stairs leading to the biology department, where Jacob was currently sat. He was currently eating what looked like...mouldy bread. And the kid looked rough. Like, would keel over at any moment. 

  
Kenny’s heart went out to the kid honestly. His story was worse than his own. Weirdly, it made him feel...thankful for his family? It was messed up, but it hadn’t ever gotten as bad as it had for Jacob.  
  


“Really?” Cartman pressed. Noah nodded. 

“Yeah, dude. His dad died five years ago and his mom went crazy from depression, so she can't even keep a job.”

  
Cartman jumped up and down just then, looking like all his prayers had been answered.  
  


“YES! Yeheah, did you hear that Kinny?? We're good! I seriously thought we didn't stand a chance, but now... everything's gonna be okay!”  
  
He wasn’t. Was he?  
  
He was.  
  
  
 _“Cause I'm not (I'm not) the poor kid at_ skeewl _!”_  
  
And Cartman moved over to where Jacob sat. Jacob glanced at this random new person as Cartman approached him.  
  
 _“Let's hear it for Jacob Hallery, guys! His mom is so poor she cuts coupons out to be institutionalized! Greeley Colorado's the place to be! It's a whole new beginning for you and me! Life can only get better 'cause I know one simple ruuule! I'm not (he's not) the poor kid at_ skeewl _!”_ _  
_  
Cartman was obviously breaking out into song, and any small amount of goodwill Kenny had towards Cartman evaporated.

“Did he do stuff like this at your old school?” Noah asked, looking...confused by the scene. 

Kenny sighed.  
  


“Uh huh.”  
  


“Let's put our hands up, everyone! 'Cept for Jacob. His mom is so poor she only understands hand-OUTS.”  
  
Dammit Cartman…  
  
  
Jacob didn't stand up for himself. He just looked dejectedly at his piece of bread. He'd lost his inner fight.   
  
  
Kenny fucking hadn't.   
  
  
Now, did he remember where the principal's office was?  
  


* * *

The bell had rung for lunch, and after his classmates had left, he'd made his way to Karen's classroom. Her class door was open, and the students were currently pouring out, but as he waited, he noticed that she wasn’t there among them.  
  
“Hey, do you know where Karen McCormick is?” He asked one of the last kids who was leaving the class.  
  
“Uh, Karen left class early because the teacher asked her to run an errand before lunch.”  
  
Damn.  
  
Well, he could wait for her outside-  
  
“Did you see Jessica?”  
  
“Yeah, she’s outside with that new girl. The one with the doll.”  
  
Huh, maybe Karen had made a friend.  
  
“-Poor new girl. Jessica’s picked a new target. The poor kid was crying in class, and Jessica saw. She was pushing her around in the playground.”  
  
Kenny’s blood ran cold. And without even thinking about it, he ran to change.  
  
If he was gonna kick some ass, it was better to not do it as Kenny. And he WAS gonna kick some ass.  
  
NO ONE touched his sister.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Aww, look at the new kid and her wittle dolly. You gonna cry some more in class, wimp?!”  
  
Outside, a commotion was occurring, as the kids gathered timidly behind a tall, much larger girl, who was currently looking at Karen with a predatory, mocking expression.  
  


“L-leave her alone.” One of the girls from Karen’s foster house spoke up, sounding terrified. 

“Shut up! You foster twerps are all the same! Come on! Hand over the doll!”

  
Just as the girl finished the statement, a figure dropped down between the two of them. He’d already noted the extra bruises on his sister.  
  
And his blood boiled. 

“Who the hell is this?!” Jessica sneered. 

“...How about you find another little girl to pick on?” Mysterion’s tone was one of suggestion, but it wasn’t one by any means. It was a warning. This ‘Jessica’ had hurt his sister. She would get one chance to back the hell away from Karen. One chance. That was far more generous than he’d expected of himself. 

“Mind your business, Peter Pan!”  
  
Fine. Some people needed to be shown. She would be the example then.  
  
Mysterion kicked her in the stomach, following up with two punches, knocking her to the ground. He grabbed the girl by her hair. 

  
“Karen McCormick is off limits! Do you understand?! Make sure EVERYBODY in this school knows!”  
  
And he grabbed Karen, escaping onto the roofs. It was safe up there, and it was easy enough for Karen to get down via the stairway. He placed her carefully down.  
  
“Do you have somewhere safe to go?” He asked her. She nodded, not letting go of him.  
  
“My brother said he’d meet me for lunch. Outside my classroom. He’s probably looking for me.”  
  
“Okay. I’ll take you back there then, so you can wait for your brother.” She nodded.  
  
“ Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. Kenny will meet me there, and he won’t let anyone hurt me. Plus, I have you too, Guardian Angel.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“You always will.”  
  
He needed to get them away from here, and back to South Park.  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“ And if this food comes as a gift from some divine intelligence, we understand that an intelligent being cannot blame us for questioning its existence. Nobody knows, nobody can know if any deity is watching over us. Amen.”  
  
  
Why were they saying grace? Who were they saying it to right now? The damn reptilian bird in the sky? Also, where the hell was Cartman?

“Except for Karen's guardian angel.”  
  
  
Kenny pricked up his ears at that. Karen gave a small smile at the girl down the furthest end of the table. Sharon was it?

“What?” Their 'foster father' looked to Karen suspiciously. 

  
“Where did he take you after he saved you, Karen?” Helen asked Karen, looking curious.

“He just took me back to my classroom. Then he disappeared like always.”   
  
  


Mr. Weatherhead pounded on the table, making all of the kids at the table jump at the noise.   
  
  
“What have we told you about making up angel stories?!”

“But we SAW him. He leaped down from the sky.” Marie pitched in from her seat next to Karen. 

  
  


“And he kicked the crap out of Jessica Pinkerton.” David spoke up from next to Kenny, sounding satisfied at the outcome. Maybe Jessica wasn't just a one person bully.   
  
  
"Yeah! Exactly!"  
  
"He flew!"  
  
"And he made smoke and fire!"  
  


“Stop it, children! We do not speak such certainties in this house!” Their 'foster mother' demanded as she went to stand by her husband, looking...frightened at the idea. 

“Get down to the basement, all of you! It's time for the Punishment Room!” Mr Waterhouse demanded.  
  
  
Fucking what? What in the hell was the punishment room?  
  
Kenny watched as the children, looking both fearful, but resigned, began to march single file towards the basement.   
  
  
Fucking...they needed to get out of here. Dammit, if it wasn’t for his parents and Pabst Blue Ribbon, they wouldn’t even BE in this-  
  
  
Kenny stopped.  
  
Wait.  
  
Would...THAT work? It had worked once, right?  
  
Everyone in South Park knew the power of Pabst Blue Ribbon, it was common knowledge.   
  
  
He needed to find a Pabst Blue Ribbon.  
  


* * *

  
Mr and Mrs Weatherhead struggled against the police as they screamed profanities at one another.  
  


“No, no, take all these kids back to their parents! We've embarrassed the system and made it something nobody wants to be a part of! It's like a Penn State homecoming party!”  
  
Kenny watched as their 'foster parents' were dragged away. The whole thing had been revealed. How they would hang children from the ceiling, and spray 'disobedient' them with Dr. Pep-er. Cartman somehow, had done something useful, and had brought the welfare officer at the perfect moment, just as he'd distracted the Weatherheads. And, his plan had worked. A nice merry little chase through the house, up the stairs, a note left, and just one can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and the Waterhouses had turned into foul mouthed, violent, red neck white trash.  
  
Pabst Blue Ribbon had always advertised that it was originally made in Wisconsin. But the truth was, it was still made and sourced in South Park. And things made in South Park tended to be...weird, or fucked up, including the people. A beer that turns people into white trash? Kenny had honestly seen weirder things. And in this case, it had helped. Although, that wouldn't stop him from hiding cans of it when they got back home.   
  
Cartman was going to juvie for the night. Apparently he'd admitted to people that his mom hadn't in fact had a meth lab. But he'd managed to cut down his time in juvie to an evening by admitting that he too 'was white trash and in trouble.'  
  
Karen held his hand for the entire ride back home, her face brightening as she began to recognise the familiar sights of South Park.   
  
"Kenny, the Bijou Theatre!"  
  
"Kenny, it's Tricia's house!"  
  
  
It had taken a full two hours, arriving back close to midnight, but they were finally home.  
  
And honestly, as he watched Karen tackle their mom, and Kevin gently bump shoulders with their dad, he never thought home ever looked as good as it did today.  
  
  
And that night, when he lay on his bed, the sounds of his parents arguing through the walls, he thought about Jacob Hallery.   
  
  
Their life here wasn't perfect, yeah, and probably wouldn't get better any time soon. But they were doing okay. They were alive, and together.   
  
  


* * *

  
  



	8. I'll Take Away All Your Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Whoah whoah wait. Little loud cute human.
> 
> Didn’t you stop and read the murals?"

* * *

##  **CHAPTER EIGHT**

## I'll Take Away All Your Fears

* * *

Chapter Eight Song: Poets of The Fall - Temple of Thought  
Chapter Eight Quri’s Song: Limbo - Closer

**Kenny (Age 9) Craig (Age 10)**

* * *

  
  
  


People were cheering and clapping in the hallway. Craig wasn’t going to cheer or clap.  
  
….  
  
…  
  
Okay, so he was clapping as well. And he was at the very back of the crowd, so no one could confirm whether he was or wasn’t smiling slightly.  
  
  
The hall of lockers in the school was packed with students, surrounding a student that had returned to them recently.  
  
  


“Well it sure is good to have you back, Kenny.” Stan said warmly to Kenny. 

  
“Thanks, Stan.” 

“I hear your parents might give up selling meth for good.” Kyle leaned towards Kenny. 

  
“Yeah. It’s great!”  
  
Kenny sounded happy. Really happy. Because he was back? Or because his parents would no longer have a meth lab?  
  
Either way, he’d gotten his family back. Like the dream Kenny had said he would. Who'd've thought his subconscious self knew Kenny so well?  
  
And real Kenny had done more than Craig had. Craig hadn’t known what to do except wait. Apparently he was now relying on odd dreams to comfort him rather than taking action.  
  
When had he become such a weirdo himself? He'd always considered himself one of the 'normal' pieces of South Park. But that belief was unraveling bit by bit, day by day. 

He supposed it didn't matter. Kenny was back, people were happy about it. No real need to dwell on it.  
  
  
The moment of happiness with Kenny and his friends was ruined as another student that had been absent, due to his own doing, arrived next to his other three friends. And once again, Craig was reminded of why he hated the four of them as a collective group.  
  
  
 _Lie  
_ _  
__  
_He sighed. Fine. He hated the three of them as a collective group. One of them was...okay. Okay-ish.

And it made him realise, despite their words, Kenny’s friends hadn’t done anything to help him.  
  


“There he is, there's my buddy.” Cartman leaned towards Kenny like Kyle had done, Kyle fixing him with a bored expression. 

“How was jail, fatass?!” Kyle sniped, as if he couldn’t wait to try and start something with Cartman.  
  
Why were they friends again? Why were any of them friends? Oh that’s right, their friend group made NO actual sense, that was why.  
  


“Well, I did a lot of thinking. And you know, guys, there's an important lesson I think we've all learned.”  
  
“Don’t do it Cartman…” Kenny warned. Cartman didn’t listen as he burst into song once again.  
  
  
 _“What do we do when the tables are turned?_

_The day's looking brighter. Gray skies are turning blue._

_'Cause I'm not (He's not, he's not) the poor kid at school!_

_Kenny's back and it's such a thrill. Now I'm rich just like Stan and Kahl!_

_All that matters is no one thinks I'm a tool! 'Cause I'm not (He's not, he's not)_

_That's right, the poor kid in school._

_Sing it with me, guys!_

_He's not the poor kid in school. (He's not)_

_I'm not-”  
  
_ _  
__  
_Craig had been very tempted to just walk away. He could speak to Kenny later, when the three assholes near him weren’t near. When the fatass wasn’t ruining Kenny’s return with a song about how he wasn’t poor.  
  
Except, just as he turned, he felt the flare of his niggle sense, and it caused him to pause, as he was hit with a wave of nausea. He felt like he was going to throw up.   
  
  
_Something very bad is about to happen. Something...sickening is coming._

Cartman was interrupted suddenly, and understandably so, as a giant reptilian bird's head smashed through the roof and second floor of the school, causing the hallway of children to back off either further down the hallway, or to flatten themselves against the lockers. The bird was...horrifying. Like a prehistoric bird of terror. Craig was reminded of a film he watched as a very young child, where the evil beings were odd, hunched, reptilian birds. It had given him nightmares for a few days. And now there was a giant one of...those hanging from their school roof. And most people have escaped away from it.   
  
Apart from two people.  
  
  
And of course, one of them had to be Kenny didn’t it?  
  
Craig struggled to keep his stomach from forcing up its contents. This thing, it felt so...wrong. Like...breathing in thick, toxic oil. The kind that no matter how much you coughed and heaved, once you had breathed it in, and it was in your lungs, it would coat the insides of them with sticky enthusiasm, revelling in your inability to breathe, or remove the substance preventing breath. 

This...creature...whatever it was...it was giving him terrible vibes, and was making him feel violently ill.  
  
 _“TEKELI-LI!”_ The bird called, as it surveyed who was closest to it. It looked towards Cartman for a moment, and Cartman looked back in abject horror at this...monstrosity. It leaned towards him slightly, as if considering.  
  
Craig’s niggle sense was going haywire, and he was honestly struggling to keep his insides..inside. And that was great and all that his niggle sense was once again alerting him to something, except he was nowhere near close enough to do anything about it.  
  
There were literally crowds of children in his way. Plus, what was he supposed to even do even if he did get to the front of the crowd in time?  
  
That call...he almost..felt like..he knew what it meant.  
  
  
 _White birds...The birds that flock….they make this call, the call of ‘woe and suffering’...the horror that resides...at the South P…  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _“TEKELI-LI!”_ It screeched once again. The beak weaved back and forth, before leaning towards Kenny. And Craig knew that he was out of time.  
 _  
_  
 _Fuck this weird, random knowledge out of nowhere. I need to stop this giant bird! Give me something that actually HELPS! FOR ONCE!  
_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _Ahhh! So loud! I can’t even sleep without hearing-oh. OH! It’s YOU! I FINALLY found you! It’s been a whiiiiile! Hi! What’s up? Ah...giant bird? Causing problems? Ew! Evil gross bird! I gotchaaa! Fine, let’s laser it!  
_** ** _  
_** _  
_Wait, was he talking to himself? And in a really weird way?  
  
  
 ** _Haha! Aww cute! We’ll have to have a chat after this. I can’t believe I found you! But yeah, after we’ve LASEEERED <3  
_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _  
_And Craig felt an odd...twitching behind his eyes. A familiar sensation that he’d felt once before.  
  
  
 _Waitwaitwait! Everyone I go to school with is here! They’ll see it!  
_  
  
 ** _Dooon’t yooooou worrrryy, I got you covered! Let’s get rid of this pain in the ass! Woo!  
  
_** _  
_ _  
_And Craig noted that something was different this time. The room seemed to fill with a blinding light, making the students flinch and close their eyes against it. And it was only then that the familiar blue ‘eye beams’ appeared from his eyes, striking at the giant bird just as it lunged for Kenny.  
  
  
 ** _Woo hoo! Look at it cower! It knows not to mess with LIGHT and FIIRREE! Bad bird! BAD! Go back to where you came from!_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _  
_And almost as if it had heard the voice in Craig’s head, the bird pulled back, fleeing from the scene.  
  
  
 ** _Woo! What a rush! You have strong LightFire. I LOVE it! I’m soooo glad I found you as weeeell. Thank you for being so loud!  
_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _Look, Don’t mean to be rude, but my fr-someone I know, is over there and was almost eaten. Can we...do this later?  
_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _Huh? Oh yeah, suuure! No probs! Come find me when you’re done so I can say hii!_** ** _  
  
  
_**

 _  
_And the presence was gone, leaving a group of terrified students opening their eyes and blinking.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“I couldn’t see what-”  
  
“-o idea what went-”  
  
“-where’s the bird?”  
  
“What the hell just happened?” Cartman keened loudly. Stan and Kyle looked up at the hole that had been left in the ceiling. Kenny looked...dazed, and slightly confused.  
  


And Craig's plan was to wait for the crowd to disperse, and then see if Kenny was okay.

Unfortunately, just as the crowd did indeed start to move uneasily along, Craig realised that he may have wanted to be here, but his body had other ideas. And no room for compromising on the matter.  
  


* * *

  
  
What  
  
  
The  
  
  
Fuck  
  
Kenny had been doing this for a while now. He knew how it worked. He knew he was due a death. The fact that Craig had saved him from his last one with the drinks machine was...a spanner in the works of ‘death day’, but he knew it was something that would come up again.  
  
He’d gotten better attuned to almost...knowing. He didn’t _know,_ but there was always a ‘sense of doom’ feeling that people got sometimes, except in his case, it was actually doom.  
And he’d felt it when he’d walked back into the school and the people had cheered. It had been bittersweet. He’d been happy to be back, but he just...couldn’t shake the feeling.  
  
And then he’d seen the giant reptilian bird, and had remembered...  
  
“God _exists. Christ exists. They COULD. Then again there COULD be a giant reptilian bird in charge of everything. Can we be CERTAIN there isn't? NO.”_ _  
__  
_And he’d scoffed at the idea. And whatever beings discussed and plotted his deaths had found it _hilarious_ to bite him in the ass for laughing at that one. And he’d watched, already resigned to what was going to happen. It had looked at Cartman first, but Kenny knew. He _knew_ that it was looking for him. That the death today would be his.  
  
And then the bird had looked at him, and he’d waited for the excruciating pain that would come from this death.  
  
Except...  
  
Exfuckingcept that hadn’t happened.  
  
Instead, the room had filled with a strong, very blinding light, and he hadn't been able to keep his eyes open. All he’d heard was a large...buzzing, the loud cry that the bird had made, over and over, and then the sound of wings, the gust of air.  
  
And when he was finally able to open his eyes, all that remained was a hole in the school roof, and the faces of surprise, shock, bemusement from all of his classmates. He looked at them now, ignoring the loud, obnoxious sound of Cartman making a fuss. Everyone else seemed no worse for wear. And it was only as the teachers arrived, and the students started chattering amongst themselves and moving on from the hallway, that he barely caught the motion.  
  
A blur of blue as it turned the corner, down the corridor, away from the commotion.  
  


* * *

  
  


Craig leaned over the toilet, and threw up the entire contents of his stomach. Whatever that had been, it had caused…this.

And he repeated the same motion, until there was nothing left inside him to possibly throw up. But his body continued to retch and shudder.

And as he was wiping his mouth, and trying to blink away the tears that had formed from the action, the door to the toilets opened.

He flushed the toilet, trying to figure out whether it was worth waiting in here until the person was gone.

"...Craig?"

Or not.

There was no way of hiding it, so he opened the door abruptly, moving towards the sinks, using the water from the faucet to clean out his mouth. The quick glance into the mirror was enough to identify that the person was who he'd thought it was from the voice. 

And of all the rotten timing, it had to be now.

"Oh...were you...throwing up?"

"Yup." He replied bluntly. He wasn't proud of his inability to hold it together, but there it was.

"...You okay?" And Craig felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into the mirrors, seeing himself and Kenny reflected there. And he hated how...frail he looked. How ill he still felt despite having emptied everything in his body that he didn't still need to stay alive.

He looked away quickly. He couldn't do this right now.

"I'm fine. You can go back to your friends now." He pulled away from the hand on his shoulder, moving towards where the paper towel dispenser sat.

"You-"

"I said I'm fine Kenny. Now leave me alone." 

"...Okay. I'll see you in class, yeah?"

"Yeah."

And Craig ignored the feeling of guilt that had apparently replaced the contents of his stomach as the door opened, and closed once more, leaving him alone.

He felt bad, for both dismissing Kenny, and lying to him. He'd planned to check if Kenny was okay, and then had discovered that he was likely to paint the hallways with his insides if he didn't move quickly. And what was worse, was the sticky, oily feeling he felt from before still lingered slightly, and the feeling a person had just before they knew they were going to throw up was still there. 

So, not only had his 'check Kenny was okay' plan failed, he'd pushed him away because he'd been going through a moment of weakness. He'd been embarrassed, and had kinda lashed out. As much as he tended to lash out anyway. 

And he wasn't even planning on going to class either. He still felt awful, but he wasn't going to go to the nurse's. 

He had a mysterious voice to find, which was his priority at the moment now he'd confirmed that Kenny was no worse for wear.

And 'saving Kenny' was very different to 'being cordial to Kenny'. 

One was definitely easier than the other. He felt he'd gotten them the wrong way round though. 

* * *

So. Craig hated him again. Cool. Good to know that their slow progress had not only halted, but had gone backwards.

Dream Craig had been far more reasonable. He'd at least almost admitted they were friends. This Craig was apparently struggling to even be near Kenny currently.

And Kenny was worried. Maybe it was unfounded worry. He hadn't seen Craig for a while, maybe he just had a virus or food poisoning. 

Kenny sighed. He was being melodramatic. Craig didn't hate him, Craig wasn't dying or anything. He was caught off guard, wanted to be alone, and was a little unwell. 

Also, why did Kenny even care?

* * *

It probably wasn't a great idea to be wandering the halls of the school without a pass, trying to talk to the weird voice in his head. But it was all he had to go on.  
  


And it wasn’t really working.  
  
And something was _really_ wrong with him. The nausea hadn’t left him, and he kept having to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead. Currently, he was (albeit dizzily) walking his way along the area he’d stood when talking to the weird voice that he may have imagined.  
  
He was going insane, wasn’t he? And eventually someone was gonna come out and find him. This weird, sweaty, ill looking ten year old walking back and forth.  
  
And he was starting to think he’d dreamed it all. Like...maybe he’d gotten some sort of weird fever, and hallucinated a bird crashing in from the ceiling, and the eye beams. The hole that was in the roof? No one was doing anything about it. No one was fixing it. That HAD to mean it wasn’t really there, right?

  
  
 _I’m so stupid. Thinking this was real. I’m such an IDIOT. FUCK._ _  
__  
_**_You’re loooooud is what you are!_ ** _  
__  
__Yeah, I’m loud too!_ _  
  
_

**_It’s okay! It worked out for the best. Hi!_ ** _  
__  
__Oh good. I’m talking to myself again._ _  
__  
_**_Man...you don’t feel so good, do ya?_ ** _  
__  
__Where...._ _  
__  
_**_Hoo boy, this isn’t good. Any way you can get to the basement before you pass out?....._ ** _  
__  
__…._ _  
__  
_**_Hello? Loud person? You still there?_ ** **_  
_** _  
__….W…_ _  
__  
_**_Okay, okay. This is NOT good. I don’t think I can get to you in time._ ** **_  
_** **_  
_** _……_ _  
__  
_**_Loud person?_ ** **_  
_** **_  
_** Craig slumped against the lockers, his vision blurry.  
  
He was already passed out when the shadow fell over him  
  
  


* * *

Kenny was watching the classroom door.   
  
Craig wasn't here. Was he still throwing up? Maybe he should've helped him to the nurse's office. Even if he hadn't felt particularly welcomed. That was Craig, right. He should be used to it.   
  
He was probably fine.....  
  
  
....That's what he told himself.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
Craig coughing was his first action to waking up.  
  
 ** _You’re awake you’re awake!_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_**His head was killing him, and his chest felt **...** like he’d run a marathon. He blinked, but the dimness of the room didn’t improve. The floor was hard and cold, but smooth.  
  
He moved to sit up, and looked around. Old chairs, desks, and other random paraphernalia.  
  
 ** _You’re up. I’m so glad! I was worried you know._** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _Where…_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _-are you? Underground. Well, kinda. This is the place people like to put things and forget about them._** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _Who-_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _-Am I? I’m over heeeeere_** **  
****  
**And in the darkness of the room, Craig saw a slight...shimmering. And it took a moment for him to recognise what the creature was.  
  
A snake sat there, watching him.  
  
And his instinctual reaction was to slide back quickly, his back hitting the wall of the room. And then realise that doing that was probably the worst decision to make with a snake.  
  
 ** _Hey hey hey, where you going?_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_**Craig watched the snake warily. It wasn’t...sitting threateningly or anything, it just...sat there.  
  
 ** _Come baaaack! Don’t hide over there._** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _Are you...the..snake?_ _  
_ _  
_The snake looked at itself.  
  
 ** _Uh, yus. Duh!_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _So, you are real._ _  
_ _  
_ ** _Yup! Now, come over heeere, you’re so faaar._** ** _  
_** ** _  
_**Craig paused. It was still a snake…  
  
 ** _C’mooooon_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_**Craig carefully scooted forward a little. **  
** **  
** **Come closer!** **  
** **  
**Craig sighed, shifting forward even closer. **  
** **  
** **  
** **Seriously come closer** **  
** **  
**Craig rolled his eyes, only a couple of meters from the snake.  
 **  
** **Almost there** **  
** **  
**He inched forward. **  
** **  
** **Cloooooser** **  
** **  
**This snake was really insistent. Craig was an arm’s length away now. **  
** **  
** **Come Closer** **  
** **  
**Giving up, he sighed and sat next to the snake, who gently moved towards his hand, and up his arm. Craig stayed still, still very wary, until the snake had wrapped itself around his neck. **  
** **  
** **Right there!  
  
** **  
** **  
**And the snake rubbed its head against his cheek. **  
** **  
**What was happening right now?  
  
 _Why did we do that?_ _  
_ _  
_ **Sorrrrry, you didn’t need to come that close. I’m glad you did though! Did you know you’re small? That makes you small and loud. That is very cute! I’m glad to FINALLY meet you face to face! And I almost didn’t!** **  
** **  
** _What do you mean?_ ** _  
_** ** _  
_**The snake flicked its tongue out, Craig felt it on his cheek. **  
** **  
** **You’re so salty. Salty little human. You were covered in salty liquid when you were brought here. And you smelt of death. I’m sorrrry, it was my fault! I got excited, and didn’t realise that you hadn’t learned how to shield yet! I need to introduce you to Yana first!** **  
** **  
** _I’ve met Yana. Also, smelt of DEATH?_ _  
_ _  
_The snake wound itself a little further so it could look up at Craig.  
  
 ** _You met Yana? Then, why did you call out to me? Not that I don’t looooove you, but, what I have to teach you is a little..advanced and stuff, plus, you shouldn’t be learning it if you can’t protect yourself from poison._** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _I was POISONED?_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _Yeah….that bird...it attacked your spirit and poisoned it._** ** _  
_** _  
_The snake uncurled itself from around Craig, dropping into his lap and causing him to jump from the sudden movement. It looked up at him, rainbow tinged scales gleaming.  
  
 ** _That bird was a servant of gross and eviiiiil. And its presence can poison those that have powers like you do. Anything sensitive to the grossness of its spirit. Even with your Ñawis mostly closed, you’re still pretty strong, so you were...vulnerable to the sickness of its own soul, and took some of that into yourself. And becaaause you haven’t learned to protect yourself yet, it was a critical hit!_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_**The snake wound around Craig’s wrist slowly. ** _  
_** ** _  
_** ** _And you dying? That’s baaaad news. Luckily, I was able to heal your spirit before it killed you. Awesome, right? I'm a cute healy snek.  
_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_**‘Awesome’ was an understatement. He looked around.  
  
 _How...did you get me here?_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _I didn’t! Looks like you had a mysteriooooous friend who helped you out. And knew exaaaactly where you needed to be to be saved. With me! They brought you down here! I was impressed. Most humans do the silly things, but this one did the right thing, and it saved you! And then the mysterious human disappeared. Mysteriously! I was very impressed and shocked!  
  
_** Craig had questions. Especially about this mysterious person who disappeared after leaving him here. But, he'd put a pin in that for later. He had an inkling. But that just raised more questions, and he already had far more important ones to ask this snake. _  
  
_**_  
_****_..._** _Why are you helping me?  
_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _Mm? You don’t know why? Really? Don’t you remember Peru?_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _What exactly am I supposed to remember about Peru apart from a giant guinea pig and lasers coming out of my EYES?  
  
_ ** _I remember that! So muuuuch fiiiire and liiight. Made me very happy. That's why I woke up and came looking for you. Took me a while as well, you live too far from Peru. You should just live in Peru.  
  
_** _I'll skip that. So, what was so important about Peru?  
  
_ _  
_ ** _Whoah whoah wait. Little loud cute human Didn’t you stop and read the murals? That talked about the prophecy ‘evil things unleashed’?_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _The giant guinea pig thing? Yeah, I stopped that._ _  
_ _  
_ ** _Noooo, there was more! Deeper in the temple. The guinea pigs trial was an initial test from the divine, an awakening rite. Didn’t you go inside? It tells the next steps you need to make to become an Incan Shaman. To become the Cauac Chaska!_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _I don’t speak Peruvian, I don’t know what you’re saying when you say that stuff._ _  
_ ** _  
_** ** _  
_** ** _It was foretold on the walls that you’d awaken your powers, would seek out your guides, like meeee, and we would show you the ways of shamanism, and prepare you for the trials against the other candidates. Only the true Cauac Chaska fights with the Chaska Churi. And...after that, we do not know what happens...it’s a bummer, but but but we know how things go up until that part! And that’s why we’re here! To help you!_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _….what exactly was ‘foretold’?_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _Mmm, the words seem to vary in different cultures...but in Incan script...it states..._** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** ** _‘The trialled one will receive the blessing of golden Inti, and will prevent the furry death. This shall open the way to the long path of the spirit, where the final powers of Viracocha will be offered to the enlightened one that has both the blessing of Inti, and has conquered their spirit.’_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** ** _That’s what was foretold. That’s you, right?_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_**Craig blinked, and then blinked again.  
  
 _I..don’t really want to get involved in any more prophecies.  
_ _  
_ _  
_ ** _How come? It sounds pretty cool if you ask me. Then there’s the rest of it-  
_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _Wait wait wait. There’s more?  
_ _  
_ _  
_If a snake could look uncomfortable, it currently did. It stopped curling around his wrist for a moment.  
  
 ** _Yeah...a lil bit. But I don’t wanna worry you with stuff! The other stuff might not even be talking about you anyway, there’s too many possibilities and candidates. This first bit is definitely talking about you though! And I wanna help you become a badass shaman! And now you’re not dying, I can do that!_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** _Are you...Puka?_ ** _  
_** ** _  
_**The snake looked at him as if affronted.  
  
  
 ** _No way! I’m far cooler than Puka! I’m Quri. I’m your badass spirit guide that teaches you about light and FIIIIIIRE and all your magic stuff. The cool stuff. Plus I’m shiny._** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_**It was official.  
  
  
Craig’s life had become really fucking weird. _  
__  
_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to balance Kenny time and Craig time equally. Not necessarily in the same chapter. There's also a LOT of exposition and foundation building at the moment. This will balance out over time as chapters go on and I smooth out wrinkles (edit chapters).


End file.
